..    .  . 


-      - 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 

GIFT  OF 

PROFESSOH 
LESLIE  M.    SMITH 


MORE  HUNTING  WASPS 


BOOKS  BY  J.  HENRI  FABRE 


THE  LIFE  OF  THE  SPIDER 
THE  LIFE  OF  THE  FLY 

THE  MASON-BEES 
BRAMBLE-BEES  AND  OTHERS 

THE  HUNTING  WASPS 

THE  LIFE  OF  THE  CATERPILLAR 

THE  LIFE  OF  THE  GRASSHOPPER 

THE  SACRED  BEETLE  AND  OTHERS 

THE  MASON- WASPS 

THE  GLOW-WORM  AND  OTHER 

BEETLES 

MORE  HUNTING  WASPS 
INSECT  ADVENTURES 


MORE  HUNTING 
WASPS 


BY 


J.  HENRI   FABRE 


TRANSLATED  BY 
ALEXANDER  TEIXEIRA  DE  MATTOS 

FELLOW    OF  THE    ZOOLOGICAL    SOCIETY   OF    LONDON 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 
1921 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1921, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY,  INC. 


VAIL-BALLOU     COMPANY 
BINGMAMTOfl  AND  NEW  YORK 


TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE 

The  fourteen  chapters  contained  in  this 
volume  complete  the  list  of  essays  in  the 
Souvenirs  entomologiques  devoted  to  Wasps. 
The  remainder  will  be  found  in  the  two 
earlier  volumes  of  this  collected  edition  en- 
titled The  Hunting  Wasps  and  The  Mason- 
wasps  respectively. 

Chapter  II.  has  appeared  before,  in  my 
version  of  The  Life  and  Love  of  the  In- 
sect, an  illustrated  volume  of  extracts  trans- 
lated by  myself  and  published  by  Messrs. 
Adam  and  Charles  Black  (in  America  by  the 
Macmillan  Co.),  and  Chapter  X.  in  a  sim- 
ilar miscellany  translated  by  Mr.  Bernard 
Miall,  published  by  Messrs.  T.  Fisher  Un- 
win  Ltd.  (in  America  by  the  Century  Co.) 
under  the  title  of  Social  Life  in  the  Insect 
World.  These  two  chapters  are  included 
in  the  present  book  by  arrangement  with  the 
original  firms. 

I  wish  to  place  on  record  my  thanks  to 
Mr.  Miall  for  the  valuable  assistance  which 
he  has  given  me  in  preparing  this  transla- 
tion. 

ALEXANDER  TEIXEIRA  DE  MATTOS. 
VENTNOR,  I.  W.,  6  December,  1920. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

TRANSLATOR'S  NOTE  v 

I    THE  POMPILI i 

II  THE   SCOLLE 30 

III  A  DANGEROUS  DIET  .        .        -55 

IV  THE  CETO.NIA-LARVA        .        .        .82 
V  THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  SCOLL3E    .     104 

VI  THE  TACHYTES 127 

VII  CHANGE  OF  DIET         .        .        .        .  1 66 

VIII  A  DIG  AT  THE  EVOLUTIONISTS      .  203 

IX  RATIONING  ACCORDING  TO  SEX   .  214 

X  THE  BEE-EATING  PHILANTHUS   .  243 

XI      THE     METHOD     OF     THE     AMMO- 
PHIL^    285 

XII      THE  METHOD  OF  THE  SCOLI^E      .  308 

XIII  THE  METHOD  OF  THE  CALICURGI  324 

XIV  OBJECTIONS  AND  REJOINDERS    .  347 
INDEX 369 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   POMPILI  1 

THE  Ammophila's 2  caterpillar,  the  Bem- 
bex'  3  Gad-fly,  the  Cerceris' 4  Buprestis  5 
and  Weevil,  the  Sphex' 6  Locust,  Cricket 
and  Ephippiger  7  :  all  these  inoffensive  peace- 
able victims  are  like  the  silly  Sheep  of 
our  slaughter-houses;  they  allow  themselves 
to  be  operated  upon  by  the  paralyser,  submit- 
ting stupidly,  without  offering  much  resist- 
ance. The  mandibles  gape,  the  legs  kick 
and  protest,  the  body  wriggles  and  twists; 
and  that  is  all.  They  have  no  weapons  capa- 
ble of  contending  with  the  assassin's  dagger. 

1  This  essay  should  be  read  in  conjunction  with  that  on 
the  Black-bellied  Tarantula.     Cf.  The  Life  of  the  Spider, 
by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  translated  by  Alexander  Teixeira  de 
Mattos :  chap.  i.  —  Translator's  Note. 

2  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  translated 
by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos :  chaps,  xiii.  and  xviii.  to 
xx. ;  and  Chapter  XL  of  the  present  volume. —  Translator's 
Note. 

8  Cf .  idem:  chap.  xiv. —  Translator's  Note. 

4  Cf .  idem:  chaps,  i.  to  iii. —  Translator's  Note. 

5  A  Beetle  usually  remarkable  for  her  brilliant  colouring. 
Cf.  idem:  chap,  i.—  Translator's  Note. 

6  Cf.  idem:  chaps,  iv.  to  x. —  Translator's  Note. 

7  Cf.  The  Life  of  the  Grasshopper,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre, 
translated  by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos:  chaps,  xiii. 
and  xiv. —  Translator's  Note. 

I 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

I  should  like  to  see  the  huntress  grappling 
with  an  imposing  adversary,  one  as  crafty 
as  herself,  an  expert  layer  of  ambushes  and, 
like  her,  bearing  a  poisoned  dirk.  I  should 
like  to  see  the  bandit  armed  with  her  stiletto 
confronted  by  another  bandit  equally  famil- 
iar with  the  use  of  that  weapon.  Is  such 
a  duel  possible?  Yes,  it  is  quite  possible 
and  even  quite  common.  On  the  one  hand 

we  have  the  Pompili,  the  protagonists  who 
are  always  victorious;  on  the  other  hand  we 
have  the  Spiders,  the  protagonists  who  are 
always  overthrown. 

Who  that  has  diverted  himself,  however 
little,  with  the  study  of  insects  does  not  know 
the  Pompili  ?  Against  old  walls,  at  the  foot 
of  the  banks  beside  unfrequented  foot- 
paths, in  the  stubble  after  the  harvest,  in 
the  tangles  of  dry  grass,  wherever  the  Spider 
spreads  her  nets,  who  has  not  seen  them 
busily  at  work,  now  running  hither  and 
thither,  at  random,  their  wings  raised  and 
quivering  above  their  backs,  now  moving 
from  place  to  place  in  flights  long  or  short? 
They  are  hunting  for  a  quarry  which  might 
easily  turn  the  tables  and  itself  prey  upon  the 
trapper  lying  in  wait  for  it. 

The  Pompili  feed  their  larvae  solely  on 
Spiders ;  and  the  Spiders  feed  on  any  insect, 


The  Pompili 

commensurate  with  their  size,  that  is  caught 
in  their  nets.  While  the  first  possess  a  sting, 
the  second  have  two  poisoned  fangs.  Often 
their  strength  is  equally  matched;  indeed  the 
advantage  is  not  seldom  on  the  Spider's  side. 
The  Wasp  has  her  ruses  of  war,  her  cun- 
ningly premeditated  strokes :  the  Spider  has 
her  wiles  and  her  set  traps;  the  first  has  the 
advantage  of  great  rapidity  of  movement, 
while  the  second  is  able  to  rely  upon  her 
perfidious  web ;  the  one  has  a  sting  which  con- 
trives to  penetrate  the  exact  point  to  cause 
paralysis,  the  other  has  fangs  which  bite  the 
back  of  the  neck  and  deal  sudden  death. 
We  find  the  paralyser  on  the  one  hand  and 
the  slaughterer  on  the  other.  Which  of  the 
two  will  become  the  other's  prey? 

If  we  consider  only  the  relative  strength  of 
the  adversaries,  the  power  of  their  weapons, 
the  virulence  of  their  poisons  and  their  differ- 
ent modes  of  action,  the  scale  would  very 
often  be  weighted  in  favour  of  the  Spider. 
Since  the  Pompilus  always  emerges  victori- 
ous from  this  contest,  which  appears  to  be 
full  of  peril  for  her,  she  must  have  a  special 
method,  of  which  I  would  fain  learn  the 
secret. 

In  our  part  of  the  country,  the  most  pow- 
erful and  courageous  Spider-huntress  is  the 
3 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Ringed  Pompilus  (Calicurgus  annulatus, 
FAB.),  clad  in  black  and  yellow.  She 
stands  high  on  her  legs ;  and  her  wings  have 
black  tips,  the  rest  being  yellow,  as  though 
exposed  to  smoke,  like  a  bloater.  Her  size 
is  about  that  of  the  Hornet  (Fespa  crabro) . 
She  is  rare.  I  see  three  or  four  of  her  in 
the  course  of  the  year;  and  I  never  fail  to 
halt  in  the  presence  of  the  proud  insect, 
rapidly  striding  through  the  dust  of  the  fields 
when  the  dog-days  arrive.  Its  audacious 
air,  its  uncouth  gait,  its  war-like  bearing  long 
made  me  suspect  that  to  obtain  its  prey  it 
had  to  make  some  impossible,  terrible,  un- 
speakable capture.  And  my  guess  was  cor- 
rect. By  dint  of  waiting  and  watching  I 
beheld  that  victim;  I  saw  it  in  the  huntress' 
mandibles.  It  is  the  Black-bellied  Taran- 
tula, the  terrible  Spider  who  slays  a  Carpen- 
ter-bee or  a  Bumble-bee  outright  with  one 
stroke  of  her  weapon;  the  Spider  who  kills 
a  Sparrow  or  a  Mole;  the  formidable  crea- 
ture whose  bite  would  perhaps  not  be  with- 
out danger  to  ourselves.  Yes,  this  is  the 
bill  of  fare  which  the  proud  Pompilus  pro- 
vides for  her  larva. 

This  spectacle,  one  of  the  most  striking 
with  which  the  Hunting  Wasps  have  ever 
provided  me,  has  as  yet  been  offered  to  my 
4 


The  Pompili 

eyes  but  once ;  and  that  was  close  beside  my 
rural  home,  in  the  famous  laboratory  of  the 
harmas.1  I  can  still  see  the  intrepid  poacher 
dragging  by  the  leg,  at  the  foot  of  a  wall, 
the  monstrous  prize  which  she  had  just  se- 
cured, doubtless  at  no  great  distance.  At 
the  base  of  the  wall  was  a  hole,  an  accidental 
chink  between  some  of  the  stones.  The 
Wasp  inspected  the  cavern,  not  for  the  first 
time:  she  had  already  reconnoitred  it  and 
the  premises  had  satisfied  her.  The  prey, 
deprived  of  the  power  of  movement,  was 
waiting  somewhere,  I  know  not  where;  and 
the  huntress  had  gone  back  to  fetch  it  and 
store  it  away.  It  was  at  this  moment  that 
I  met  her.  The  Pompilus  gave  a  last  glance 
at  the  cave,  removed  a  few  small  fragments 
of  loose  mortar;  and  with  that  her  prepara- 
tions were  completed.  The  Lycosa2  was 
introduced,  dragged  along,  belly  upwards, 
by  one  leg.  I  did  not  interfere.  Presently 
the  Wasp  reappeared  on  the  surface  and 
carelessly  pushed  in  front  of  the  hole  the 
bits  of  mortar  which  she  had  just  extracted 

1  The  enclosed  piece  of  waste  land  on  which  the  author 
studied  his  insects  in  their  native  state.     Cf.  The  Life  of 
the    Fly,   by    J.    Henri    Fabre,    translated    by    Alexander 
Teixeira   de   Martos :  chap.   i. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  The  Spider  in  question  is  known  indifferently  as  the 
Black-bellied    Tarantula    and    the    Narbonne    Lycosa. — 
Translator's  Note. 

5 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

from  it.  Then  she  flew  away.  It  was  all 
over.  The  egg  was  laid;  the  insect  had  fin- 
ished for  better  or  for  worse;  and  I  was  able 
to  proceed  with  my  examination  of  the  bur- 
row and  its  contents. 

The  Pompilus  has  done  no  digging.  It 
is  really  an  accidental  hole  with  spacious 
winding  passages,  the  result  of  the  mason's 
negligence  and  not  of  the  Wasp's  industry. 
The  closing  of  the  cavity  is  quite  as  rough 
and  summary.  A  few  crumbs  of  mortar, 
heaped  up  before  the  doorway,  form  a  bar- 
ricade rather  than  a  door.  A  mighty  hunter 
makes  a  poor  architect.  The  Tarantula's 
murderess  does  not  know  how  to  dig  a  cell 
for  her  larva ;  she  does  not  know  how  to  fill 
up  the  entrance  by  sweeping  dust  into  it. 
The  first  hole  encountered  at  the  foot  of  a 
wall  contents  her,  provided  that  it  be  roomy 
enough;  a  little  heap  of  rubbish  will  do  for 
a  door.  Nothing  could  be  more  expeditious. 

I  withdraw  the  game  from  the  hole.  The 
egg  is  stuck  to  the  Spider,  near  the  begin- 
ning of  the  belly.  A  clumsy  movement  on 
my  part  makes  it  fall  off  at  the  moment  of 
extraction.  It  is  all  over:  the  thing  will  not 
hatch;  I  shall  not  be  able  to  observe  the 
development  of  the  larva.  The  Tarantula 
lies  motionless,  flexible  as  in  life,  with  not 
6 


The  Pompili 

a  trace  of  a  wound.  In  short,  we  have  here 
life  without  movement.  From  time  to  time 
the  tips  of  the  tarsi  quiver  a  little;  and  that 
is  all.  Accustomed  of  old  to  these  deceptive 
corpses,  I  can  see  in  my  mind's  eye  what  has 
happened:  the  Spider  has  been  stung  in  the 
region  of  the  thorax,  no  doubt  once  only, 
in  view  of  the  concentration  of  her  nervous 
system.  I  place  the  victim  in  a  box  in  which 
it  retains  all  the  pliancy  and  all  the  fresh- 
ness of  life  from  the  2nd  of  August  to  the 
2Oth  of  September,  that  is  to  say,  for  seven 
weeks.  These  miracles  are  familiar  to  us;  * 
there  is  no  need  to  linger  over  them  here.  ' 
The  most  important  matter  has  escaped 
me.  What  I  wanted,  what  I  still  want  to 
see  is  the  Pompilus  engaged  in  mortal  com- 
bat with  the  Lycosa.  What  a  duel,  in  which 
the  cunning  of  the  one  has  to  overcome  the 
terrible  weapons  of  the  other!  Does  the 
Wasp  enter  the  burrow  to  surprise  the  Ta- 
rantula at  the  bottom  of  her  lair?  Such 
temerity  would  be  fatal  to  her.  Where  the 
big  Bumble-bee  dies  an  instant  death,  the 
audacious  visitor  would  perish  the  moment 
she  entered.  Is  not  the  other  there,  facing 
her,  ready  to  snap  at  the  back  of  her  head, 
inflicting  a  wound  which  would  result  in  sud- 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  passim.—  Translator's  Note. 

7 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

den  death?  No,  the  Pompilus  does  not  en- 
ter the  Spider's  parlour,  that  is  obvious. 
Does  she  surprise  the  Spider  outside  her 
fortress?  But  the  Lycosa  is  a  stay-at-home 
animal;  I  do  not  see  her  straying  abroad 
during  the  summer.  Later,  in  the  autumn, 
when  the  Pompili  have  disappeared,  she 
wanders  about;  turning  gipsy,  she  takes  the 
open  air  with  her  numerous  family,  which  she 
carries  on  her  back.  Apart  from  these  ma- 
ternal strolls,  she  does  not  appear  to  me  to 
leave  her  castle;  and  the  Pompilus,  I  should 
think,  has  no  great  chance  of  meeting  her 
outside.  The  problem,  we  perceive,  is  be- 
coming complicated:  the  huntress  cannot 
make  her  way  into  the  burrow,  where  she 
would  risk  sudden  death;  and  the  Spider's 
sedentary  habits  make  an  encounter  outside 
the  burrow  improbable.  Here  is  a  riddle 
which  would  be  interesting  to  decipher.  Let 
us  endeavour  to  do  so  by  observing  other 
Spider-hunters;  analogy  will  enable  us  to 
draw  a  conclusion. 

I  have  often  watched  Pompili  of  every 
species  on  their  hunting-expeditions,  but  I 
have  never  surprised  them  entering  the 
Spider's  lodging  when  the  latter  was  at 
home.  Whether  this  lodging  be  a  funnel 
plunging  its  neck  into  a  hole  in  some  wall, 


The  Pompili 

an  awning  stretched  amid  the  stubble,  a  tent 
modelled  upon  the  Arab's,  a  sheath  formed 
of  a  few  leaves  bound  together,  or  a  net 
with  a  guard-room  attached,  whenever  the 
owner  is  indoors  the  suspicious  Pompilus 
holds  aloof.  When  the  dwelling  is  vacant, 
it  is  another  matter:  the  Wasp  moves  with 
arrogant  ease  over  those  webs,  springes  and 
cables  in  which  so  many  other  insects  would 
remain  ensnared.  The  silken  threads  do  not 
seem  to  have  any  hold  upon  her.  What  is 
she  doing,  exploring  those  empty  webs? 
She  is  watching  to  see  what  is  happening  on 
the  adjacent  webs  where  the  Spider  is  am- 
bushed. The  Pompilus  therefore  feels  an 
insuperable  reluctance  to  make  straight  for 
the  Spider  when  the  latter  is  at  home  in  the 
midst  of  her  snares.  And  she  is  right,  a 
hundred  times  over.  If  the  Tarantula  un- 
derstands the  practice  of  the  dagger-thrust 
in  the  neck,  which  is  immediately  fatal,  the 
other  cannot  be  unacquainted  with  it.  Woe 
then  to  the  imprudent  Wasp  who  presents 
herself  upon  the  threshold  of  a  Spider  of 
approximately  equal  strength! 

Of  the  various  instances  which  I  have  col- 
lected of  this  cautious  reserve  on  the  Spider- 
huntress'  part  I  will  confine  myself  to  the 
following,  which  will  be  sufficient  to  prove 

9 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

» 
my  point.     By  joining,  with  silken  strands, 

the  three  folioles  which  form  the  leaf  of 
Virgil's  cytisus,  a  Spider  has  built  herself  a 
green  arbour,  a  horizontal  sheath,  open  at 
either  end.  A  questing  Pompilus  comes 
upon  the  scene,  finds  the  game  to  her  lik- 
ing and  pops  in  her  head  at  the  entrance  of 
the  cell.  The  Spider  immediately  retreats 
to  the  other  end.  The  huntress  goes  round 
the  Spider's  dwelling  and  reappears  at  the 
other  door.  Again  the  Spider  retreats,  re- 
turning to  the  first  entrance.  The  Wasp 
also  returns  to  it,  but  always  by  the  outside. 
Scarcely  has  she  done  so,  when  the  Spider 
rushes  for  the  opposite  opening;  and  so  on 
for  fully  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  both  of  them 
coming  and  going  from  one  end  of  the  cylin- 
der to  the  other,  the  Spider  inside  and  the 
Pompilus  outside. 

The  quarry  was  a  valuable  one,  it  seems, 
since  the  Wasp  persisted  for  a  long  time  in 
her  attempts,  which  were  invariably  de- 
feated; however,  the  huntress  had  to  aban- 
don them,  baffled  by  this  perpetual  running 
to  and  fro.  The  Pompilus  made  off;  and 
the  Spider,  once  more  on  the  watch,  pa- 
tiently awaited  the  heedless  Midges.  What 
should  the  Wasp  have  done  to  capture  this 
much-coveted  game?  She  should  have  en- 
10 


The  Pompeii 

tered  the  verdant  cylinder,  the  Spider's 
dwelling,  and  pursued  the  Spider  direct,  in 
her  own  house,  instead  of  remaining  outside, 
going  from  one  door  to  the  other.  With 
such  swiftness  and  dexterity  as  hers,  it 
seemed  to  me  impossible  that  the  stroke 
should  fail:  the  quarry  moved  clumsily,  a 
little  sideways,  like  a  Crab.  I  judged  it  to 
be  an  easy  matter;  the  Pompilus  thought  it 
highly  dangerous.  To-day  I  am  of  her  opin- 
ion: if  she  had  entered  the  leafy  tube,  the 
mistress  of  the  house  would  have  operated 
on  her  neck  and  the  huntress  would  have  be- 
come the  quarry. 

Years  passed  and  the  paralyser  of  the 
Spiders  still  refused  to  reveal  her  secret;  I 
was  badly  served  by  circumstances,  could 
find  no  leisure,  was  absorbed  in  unrelenting 
preoccupations.  At  length,  during  my  last 
year  at  Orange,  the  light  dawned  upon  me. 
My  garden  was  enclosed  by  an  old  wall, 
blackened  and  ruined  by  time,  where,  in  the 
chinks  between  the  stones,  lived  a  population 
of  Spiders,  represented  more  particularly  by 
Segestria  perfidia.  This  is  the  common 
Black  Spider,  or  Cellar  Spider.  She  is  deep 
black  all  over,  excepting  the  mandibles,  which 
are  a  splendid  metallic  green.  Her  two 
poisoned  daggers  look  like  a  product  of  the 


ii 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

metal-worker's  art,  like  the  finest  bronze. 
In  any  mass  of  abandoned  masonry  there  is 
not  a  quiet  corner,  not  a  hole  the  size  of 
one's  finger,  in  whkk  the  Segestria  does  not 
set  up  house.  Her  web  is  a  widely  flaring 
funnel,  whose  open  end,  at  most  a  span 
across,  lies  spread  upon  the  surface  of  the 
wall,  where  it  is  held  in  place  by  radiating 
threads.  This  conical  surface  is  continued 
by  a  tube  which  runs  into  a  hole  in  the  wall. 
At  the  end  is  the  dining-room  to  which  the 
Spider  retires  to  devour  at  her  ease  her  cap- 
tured prey. 

With  her  two  hind-legs  stuck  into  the  tube 
to  obtain  a  purchase  and  the  six  others  spread 
around  the  orifice,  the  better  to  perceive  on 
every  side  the  quiver  which  gives  the  signal 
of  a  capture,  the  Segestria  waits  motion- 
less, at  the  entrance  of  her  funnel,  for  an 
insect  to  become  entangled  in  the  snare. 
Large  Flies,  Drone-flies,  dizzily  grazing 
some  thread  of  the  snare  with  their  wings, 
are  her  usual  victims.  At  the  first  flutter 
of  the  netted  Fly,  the  Spider  runs  or  even 
leaps  forward,  but  she  is  now  secured  by  a 
cord  which  escapes  from  the  spinnerets  and 
which  has  its  end  fastened  to  the  silken  tube. 
This  prevents  her  from  falling  as  she  darts 
along  a  vertical  surface.  Bitten  at  the  back 

12 


The  Pompili 

of  the  head,  the  Drone-fly  is  dead  in  a  mo- 
ment; and  the  Segestria  carries  him  into  her 
lair. 

Thanks  to  this  method  and  these  hunting- 
appliances  —  an  ambush  at  the  bottom  of  a 
silken  whirlpool,  radiating  snares,  a  life-line 
which  holds  her  from  behind  and  allows  her 
to  take  a  sudden  rush  without  risking  a  fall 
-  the  Segestria  is  able  to  catch  game  less 
inoffensive  than  the  Drone-fly.  A  Com- 
mon Wasp,  they  tell  me,  does  not  daunt  her. 
Though  I  have  not  tested  this,  I  readily  be- 
lieve it,  for  I  well  know  the  Spider's  bold- 
ness. 

This  boldness  is  reinforced  by  the  activity 
of  the  venom.  It  is  enough  to  have  seen  the 
Segestria  capture  some  large  Fly  to  be  con- 
vinced of  the  overwhelming  effect  of  her 
fangs  upon  the  insects  bitten  in  the  neck. 
The  death  of  the  Drone-fly,  entangled  in  the 
silken  funnel,  is  reproduced  by  the  sudden 
death  of  the  Bumble-bee  on  entering  the 
Tarantula's  burrow.  We  know  the  effect  of 
the  poison  on  man,  thanks  to  Atitoine  Du- 
ges' 1  investigations.  Let  us  listen  to  the 
brave  experimenter : 

1  Antoine  Louis  Duges  (1797-1838),  a  French  physi- 
cian and  physiologist,  author  of  a  Traite  de  physiologic 
comparee  de  I'homme  et  des  animaux  and  other  scientific 
works. —  Translator's  Note. 

13 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

'  The  treacherous  Segestria,  or  Great 
Cellar  Spider,  reputed  poisonous  in  our  part 
of  the  country,  was  chosen  for  the  principal 
subject  of  our  experiments.  She  was  three- 
quarters  of  an  inch  long,  measured  from  the 
mandibles  to  the  spinnerets.  Taking  her  in 
my  fingers  from  behind,  by  the  legs,  which 
were  folded  and  gathered  together  (this  is 
the  way  to  catch  hold  of  live  Spiders,  if  you 
would  avoid  their  bite  and  master  them  with- 
out mutilating  them),  I  placed  her  on  vari- 
ous objects  and  on  my  clothes,  without  her 
manifesting  the  least  desire  to  do  any  harm; 
but  hardly  was  she  laid  on  the  bare  skin  of 
my  fore-arm  when  she  seized  a  fold  of  the 
epidermis  in  her  powerful  mandibles,  which 
are  of  a  metallic  green,  and  drove  her  fangs 
deep  into  it.  For  a  few  moments  she  re- 
mained hanging,  although  left  free;  then  she 
released  herself,  fell  and  fled,  leaving  two 
tiny  wounds,  a  sixth  of  an  inch  apart,  red, 
but  hardly  bleeding,  with  a  slight  extravasa- 
tion round  the  edge  and  resembling  the 
wounds  produced  by  a  large  pin. 

"  At  the  moment  of  the  bite,  the  sensation 
was  sharp  enough  to  deserve  the  name  of 
pain;  and  this  continued  for  five  or  six  mi- 
nutes more,  but  not  so  forcibly.  I  might 
compare  it  with  the  sensation  produced  by 
14 


The  Pompili 

the  stinging-nettle.  A  whitish  tumefaction 
almost  immediately  surrounded  the  two 
pricks;  and  the  circumference,  within  a  ra- 
dius of  about  an  inch,  was  coloured  an  ery- 
sipelas red,  accompanied  by  a  very  slight 
swelling.  In  an  hour  and  a  half,  it  had  all 
disappeared,  except  the  mark  of  the  pricks, 
which  persisted  for  several  days,  as  any  other 
small  wound  would  have  done.  This  was  in 
September,  in  rather  cool  weather.  Perhaps 
the  symptoms  would  have  displayed  some- 
what greater  severity  at  a  warmer  season." 
Without  being  serious,  the  effect  of  the 
Segestria's  poison  is  plainly  marked.  A 
sting  causing  sharp  pain  and  swelling,  with 
the  redness  of  erysipelas,  is  no  trifling  mat- 
ter. While  DugeV  experiment  reassures  us 
in  so  far  as  we  ourselves  are  concerned,  it  is 
none  the  less  the  fact  that  the  Cellar  Spider's 
poison  is  a  terrible  thing  for  insects,  whether 
because  of  the  small  size  of  the  victim, 
or  because  it  acts  with  special  efficacy 
upon  an  organization  which  differs  widely 
from  our  own.  One  Pompilus,  though 
greatly  inferior  to  the  Segestria  in  size  and 
strength,  nevertheless  makes  war  upon  the 
Black  Spider  and  succeeds  in  overpowering 
this  formidable  quarry.  This  is  Pompilus 
is 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

apicalis,  VAN  DER  LIND,  who  is  hardly 
larger  than  the  Hive-bee,  but  very  much 
slenderer.  She  is  of  a  uniform  black;  her 
wings  are  a  cloudy  brown,  with  transparent 
tips.  Let  us  follow  her  in  her  expeditions 
to  the  old  wall  inhabited  by  the  Segestria: 
we  will  track  her  for  whole  afternoons  du- 
ring the  July  heats;  and  we  will  arm  our- 
selves with  patience,  for  the  perilous  capture 
of  the  game  must  take  the  Wasp  a  long  time. 
The  Spider-huntress  explores  the  wall 
minutely;  she  runs,  leaps  and  flies;  she  comes 
and  goes,  flitting  to  and  fro.  The  antennae 
quiver;  the  wings,  raised  above  the  back, 
continually  beat  one  against  the  other.  Ah, 
here  she  is,  close  to  a  Segestria's  funnel ! 
The  Spider,  who  has  hitherto  remained  in- 
visible, instantly  appears  at  the  entrance  to 
the  tube;  she  spreads  her  six  fore-legs  out- 
side, ready  to  receive  the  huntress.  Far 
from  fleeing  before  the  terrible  apparition, 
she  watches  the  watcher,  fully  prepared  to 
prey  upon  her  enemy.  Before  this  intrepid 
demeaneur  the  Pompilus  draws  back.  She 
examines  the  coveted  game,  walks  round  it 
for  a  moment,  then  goes  away  without  at- 
tempting anything.  When  she  has  gone,  the 
Segestria  retires  indoors,  backwards.  For 
the  second  time  the  Wasp  passes  near  an 
16 


The  Pompili 

inhabited  funnel.  The  Spider  on  the  look- 
out at  once  shows  herself  on  the  threshold 
of  her  dwelling,  half  out  of  her  tube,  ready 
for  defence  and  perhaps  also  for  attack. 
The  Pompilus  moves  away  and  the  Segestria 
reenters  her  tube.  A  fresh  alarm:  the  Pom- 
pilus returns;  another  threatening  demon- 
stration on  the  part  of  the  Spider.  Her 
neighbour,  a  little  later,  does  better  than 
this :  while  the  huntress  is  prowling  about 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  funnel,  she  sud- 
denly leaps  out  of  the  tube,  with  the  life- 
line which  will  save  her  from  falling,  should 
she  miss  her  footing,  attached  to  her  spin- 
nerets; she  rushes  forward  and  hurls  herself 
in  front  of  the  Pompilus,  at  a  distance  of 
some  eight  inches  from  her  burrow.  The 
Wasp,  as  though  terrified,  immediately  de- 
camps; and  the  Segestria  no  less  suddenly 
retreats  indoors. 

Here,  we  must  admit,  is  a  strange  quarry: 
it  does  not  hide,  but  is  eager  to  show  itself; 
it  does  not  run  away,  but  flings  itself  in  front 
of  the  hunter.  If  our  observations  were  to 
cease  here,  could  we  say  which  of  the  two  is 
the  hunter  and  which  the  hunted  ?  Should  we 
not  feel  sorry  for  the  imprudent  Pompilus? 
Let  a  thread,  of  the  trap  entangle  her  leg; 
and  it  is  all  up  with  her.  The  other  will 
17 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

be  there,  stabbing  her  in  the  throat.  What 
then  is  the  method  which  she  employs  against 
the  Segestria,  always  on  the  alert,  ready  for 
defence,  audacious  to  the  point  of  aggres- 
sion? Shall  I  surprise  the  reader  if  I  tell 
him  that  this  problem  filled  me  with  the  most 
eager  interest,  that  it  held  me  for  weeks  in 
contemplation  before  that  cheerless  wall? 
Nevertheless,  my  tale  will  be  a  short  one. 

On  several  occasions  I  see  the  Pompilus 
suddenly  fling  herself  on  one  of  the  Spider's 
legs,  seize  it  with  her  mandibles  and  en- 
deavour to  draw  the  animal  from  its  tube. 
It  is  a  sudden  rush,  a  surprise  attack,  too 
quick  to  permit  the  Spider  to  parry  it.  For- 
tunately, the  latter's  two  hind-legs  are  firmly 
hooked  to  the  dwelling;  and  the  Segestria 
escapes  with  a  jerk,  for  the  other,  having  de- 
livered her  shock  attack,  hastens  to  release 
her  hold;  if  she  persisted,  the  affair  might 
end  badly  for  her.  Having  failed  in  this  as- 
sault, the  Wasp  repeats  the  procedure  at 
other  funnels;  she  will  even  return  to  the  first 
when  the  alarm  is  somewhat  assuaged.  Still 
hopping  and  fluttering,  she  prowls  around 
the  mouth,  whence  the  Segestria  watches  her, 
with  her  legs  outspread.  She  waits  for  the 
propitious  moment;  she  leaps  forward, 
seizes  a  leg,  tugs  at  it  and  springs  out  of 
18 


The  Pompili 

reach.  More  often  than  not,  the  Spider 
holds  fast;  sometimes  she  is  dragged  out  of 
the  tube,  to  a  distance  of  a  few  inches,  but 
immediately  returns,  no  doubt  with  the  aid 
of  her  unbroken  life-line. 

The  Pompilus'  intention  is  plain:  she 
wants  to  eject  the  Spider  from  her  fortress 
and  fling  her  some  distance  away.  So  much 
perseverance  leads  to  success.  This  time  all 
goes  well :  with  a  vigorous  and  well-timed 
tug  the  Wasp  has  pulled  the  Segestria  out 
and  at  once  lets  her  drop  to  the  ground. 
Bewildered  by  her  fall  and  even  more  de- 
moralized by  being  wrested  from  her  am- 
bush, the  Spider  is  no  longer  the  bold  ad- 
versary that  she  was.  She  draws  her  legs 
together  and  cowers  into  a  depression  in  the 
soil.  The  huntress  is  there  on  the  instant 
to  operate  on  the  evicted  animal.  I  have 
barely  time  to  draw  near  to  watch  the 
tragedy  when  the  victim  is  paralysed  by  a 
thrust  of  the  sting  in  the  thorax. 

Here  at  last,  in  all  its  Machiavellian  cun- 
ning, is  the  shrewd  method  of  the  Pompilus. 
She  would  be  risking  her  life  if  she  attacked 
the  Segestria  in  her  home;  the  Wasp  is  so 
convinced  of  it  that  she  takes  good  care  not 
to  commit  this  imprudence;  but  she  knows 
also  that,  once  dislodged  from  her  dwelling, 
19 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  Spider  is  as  timid,  as  cowardly  as  she 
was  bold  at  the  centre  of  her  funnel. 
The  whole  point  of  her  tactics,  therefore, 
lies  in  dislodging  the  creature.  This  done, 
the  rest  is  nothing. 

The  Tarantula-huntress  must  behave  in 
the  same  manner.  Enlightened  by  her  kins- 
woman, Pompilus  apicalisy  my  mind  pictures 
her  wandering  stealthily  around  the  Lycosa's 
rampart.  The  Lycosa  hurries  up  from  the 
bottom  of  her  burrow,  believing  that  a  vic- 
tim is  approaching;  she  ascends  her  vertical 
tube,  spreading  her  fore-legs  outside,  ready 
to  leap.  But  it  is  the  Ringed  Pompilus  who 
leaps,  seizes  a  leg,  tugs  and  hurls  the  Lycosa 
from  her  burrow.  The  Spider  is  henceforth 
a  craven  victim,  who  will  let  herself  be 
stabbed  without  dreaming  of  employing  her 
venomous  fangs.  Here  craft  triumphs  over 
strength;  and  this  craft  is  not  inferior  to 
mine,  when,  wishing  to  capture  the  Taran- 
tula, I  make  her  bite  a  spike  of  grass  which 
I  dip  into  the  burrow,  lead  her  gently  to  the 
surface  and  then  with  a  sudden  jerk  throw 
her  outside.  For  the  entomologist  as  for 
the  Pompilus,  the  essential  thing  is  to  make 
the  Spider  leave  her  stronghold.  After  this 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  catching  her,  thanks 

20 


The  Pompili 

to  the  utter  bewilderment  of  the  evicted  ani- 
mal. 

Two  contrasting  points  impress  me  in  the 
facts  which  I  have  just  set  forth :  the  shrewd- 
ness of  the  Pompilus  and  the  folly  of  the 
Spider.  I  will  admit  that  the  Wasp  may 
gradually  have  acquired,  as  being  highly 
beneficial  to  her  posterity,  the  instinct  by 
which  she  first  of  all  so  judiciously  drags  the 
victim  from  its  refuge,  in  order  there  to 
paralyse  it  without  incurring  danger,  pro- 
vided that  you  will  explain  why  the  Segestria, 
possessing  an  intellect  no  less  gifted  than 
that  of  the  Pompilus,  does  not  yet  know 
how  to  counteract  the  trick  of  which  she  has 
so  long  been  the  victim.  What  would  the 
Black  Spider  need  to  do  to  escape  her  ex- 
terminator? Practically  nothing:  it  would 
be  enough  for  her  to  withdraw  into  her  tube, 
instead  of  coming  up  to  post  herself  at  the 
entrance,  like  a  sentry,  whenever  the  enemy 
is  in  the  neighbourhood.  It  is  very  brave 
of  her,  I  agree,  but  also  very  risky. 
The  Pompilus  will  pounce  upon  one  of  the 
legs  spread  outside  the  burrow  for  defence 
and  attack;  and  the  besieged  Spider  will 
perish,  betrayed  by  her  own  boldness.  This 
posture  is  excellent  when  waiting  for  prey. 

21 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

But  the  Wasp  is  not  a  quarry;  she  is  an  en- 
emy and  one  of  the  most  dreaded  of  enemies. 
The  Spider  knows  this.  At  the  sight  of  the 
Wasp,  instead  of  placing  herself  fearlessly 
but  foolishly  on  her  threshold,  why  does  she 
not  retreat  into  her  fortress,  where  the  other 
would  not  attack  her  ?  The  accumulated  ex- 
perience of  generations  should  have  taught 
her  this  elementary  tactical  device,  which  is 
of  the  greatest  value  to  the  prosperity  of 
her  race.  If  the  Pompilus  has  perfected 
her  method  of  attack,  why  has  not  the  Seges- 
tria  perfected  her  method  of  defence?  Is  it 
possible  that  centuries  upon  centuries  should 
have  modified  the  one  to  its  advantage  with- 
out succeeding  in  modifying  the  other? 
Here  I  am  utterly  at  a  loss.  And  I  say  to 
myself,  in  all  simplicity:  since  the  Pompili 
must  have  Spiders,  the  former  have  pos- 
sessed their  patient  cunning  and  the  other 
their  foolish  audacity  from  all  time.  This 
may  be  puerile,  if  you  like  to  think  it  so,  and 
not  in  keeping  with  the  transcendental  aims  of 
our  fashionable  theorists;  the  argument  con- 
tains neither  the  subjective  nor  the  objective 
point  of  view,  neither  adaptation  nor  differ- 
entiation, neither  atavism  nor  evolutionism. 
Very  well,  but  at  least  I  understand  it. 
Let  us  return  to  the  habits  of  Pompilus 
22 


The  Pompili 

apicalis.  Without  expecting  results  of  any 
particular  interest,  for  in  captivity  the  re- 
spective talents  of  the  huntress  and  the 
quarry  seem  to  slumber,  I  place  together,  in 
a  wide  jar,  a  Wasp  and  a  Segestria.  The 
Spider  and  her  enemy  mutually  avoid  each 
other,  both  being  equally  timid.  A  judicious 
shake  or  two  brings  them  into  contact.  The 
Segestria,  from  time  to  time,  catches  hold 
of  the  Pompilus,  who  gathers  herself  up  as 
best  she  can,  without  attempting  to  use  her 
sting;  the  Spider  rolls  the  insect  between  her 
legs  and  even  between  her  mandibles,  but 
appears  to  dislike  doing  it.  Once  I  see  her 
lie  on  her  back  and  hold  the  Pompilus  above 
her,  as  far  away  as  possible,  while  turning 
her  over  in  her  fore-legs  and  munching  at 
her  with  her  mandibles.  The  Wasp, 
whether  by  her  own  adroitness  or  owing  to 
the  Spider's  dread  of  her,  promptly  escapes 
from  the  terrible  fangs,  moves  to  a  short 
distance  and  does  not  seem  to  trouble  un- 
duly about  the  buffeting  which  she  has  re- 
ceived. She  quietly  polishes  her  wings  and 
curls  her  antennae  by  pulling  them  while 
standing  on  them  with  her  fore-tarsi.  The 
attack  of  the  Segestria,  stimulated  by  my 
shakes,  is  repeated  ten  times  over;  and  the 
Pompilus  always  escapes  from  the  venomous 
23 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

fangs  unscathed,  as  though  she  were  invulner- 
able. 

Is  she  really  invulnerable  ?  By  no  means, 
as  we  shall  soon  have  proved  to  us;  if  she 
retires  safe  and  sound,  it  is  because  the 
Spider  does  not  use  her  fangs.  What  we 
see  is  a  sort  of  truce,  a  tacit  convention  for- 
bidding deadly  strokes,  or  rather  the  de- 
moralization due  to  captivity;  and  the  two 
adversaries  are  no  longer  in  a  sufficiently 
warlike  mood  to  make  play  with  their  dag- 
gers. The  tranquillity  of  the  Pompilus,  who 
keeps  on  jauntily  curling  her  antennae  in  face 
of  the  Segestria,  reassures  me  as  to  my  pri- 
soner's fate ;  for  greater  security,  however,  I 
throw  her  a  scrap  of  paper,  in  the  folds  of 
which  she  will  find  a  refuge  during  the  night. 
She  instals  herself  there,  out  of  the  Spider's 
reach.  Next  morning  I  find  her  dead. 
During  the  night  the  Segestria,  whose  habits 
are  nocturnal,  has  recovered  her  daring  and 
stabbed  her  enemy.  I  had  my  suspicions 
that  the  parts  played  might  be  reversed! 
The  butcher  of  yesterday  is  the  victim  of  to- 
day. 

I   replace   the   Pompilus  by   a   Hive-bee. 

The  interview  is  not  protracted.     Two  hours 

later,  the  Bee  is  dead,  bitten  by  the  Spider. 

A  Drone-fly  suffers  the  same  fate.     The  Se- 

24 


The  Pompili 

gestria,  however,  does  not  touch  either  of 
the  two  corpses,  any  more  than  she  touched 
the  corpse  of  the  Pompilus.  In  these  mur- 
ders the  captive  seems  to  have  no  other  ob- 
ject than  to  rid  herself  of  a  turbulent  neigh- 
bour. When  appetite  awakes,  perhaps  the 
victims  will  be  turned  to  account.  They 
were  not;  and  the  fault  was  mine.  I  placed 
in  the  jar  a  Bumble-bee  of  average  size.  A 
day  later  the  Spider  was  dead;  the  rude 
sharer  of  her  captivity  had  done  the  deed. 

Let  us  say  no  more  of  these  unequal  duels 
in  the  glass  prison  and  complete  the  story 
of  the  Pompilus  whom  we  left  at  the  foot  of 
the  wall  with  the  paralysed  Segestria.  She 
abandons  her  prey  on  the  ground  and  returns 
to  the  wall.  She  visits  the  Spider's  funnels 
one  by  one,  walking  on  them  as  freely  as  on 
the  stones;  she  inspects  the  silken  tubes, 
dipping  her  antennae  into  them,  sounding 
and  exploring  them;  she  enters  without  the 
least  hesitation.  Whence  does  she  now  de- 
rive the  temerity  thus  to  enter  the  Segestria's 
haunts?  But  a  little  while  ago,  she  was  dis- 
playing extreme  caution ;  at  this  moment,  she 
seems  heedless  of  danger.  The  fact  is  that 
there  is  no  danger  really.  The  Wasp  is 
inspecting  uninhabited  Jiouses.  When  she 
dives  down  a  silken  tunnel,  she  very  well 
25 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

knows  that  there  is  no  one  in,  for,  had  the 
Segestria  been  there,  she  would  by  this  time 
have  appeared  on  the  threshold.  The  fact 
that  the  householder  does  not  show  herself 
at  the  first  vibration  of  the  neighbouring 
threads  is  a  certain  proof  that  the  tube  is 
vacant;  and  the  Pompilus  enters  in  full  se- 
curity. I  would  recommend  future  observers 
not  to  take  the  present  investigations  for 
hunting-tactics.  I  have  already  remarked 
and  I  repeat:  the  Pompilus  never  enters  the 
silken  ambush  while  the  Spider  is  there. 

Among  the  funnels  inspected  one  appears 
to  suit  her  better  than  the  others;  she  returns 
to  it  frequently  in  the  course  of  her  investi- 
gations, which  last  for  nearly  an  hour. 
From  time  to  time  she  hastens  back  to  the 
Spider  lying  on  the  ground;  she  examines 
her,  tugs  at  her,  drags  her  a  little  closer  to 
the  wall,  then  leaves  her  the  better  to  recon- 
noitre the  tunnel  which  is  the  object  of  her 
preference.  Lastly  she  returns  to  the  Se- 
gestria and  takes  her  by  the  tip  of  the  ab- 
domen. The  quarry  is  so  heavy  that  she 
has  great  difficulty  in  moving  it  along  the 
level  ground.  Two  inches  divide  it  from 
the  wall.  She  gets  to  the  wall,  not  without 
effort;  nevertheless,  once  the  wall  is  reached, 
the  job  is  quickly  done.  We  learn  that 
26 


The  Pompili 

Antaeus,  the  son  of  Mother  Earth,  in  his 
struggle  with  Hercules,  received  new 
strength  as  often  as  his  feet  touched  the 
ground;  the  Pompilus,  the  daughter  of  the 
wall,  seems  to  increase  her  powers  tenfold 
once  she  has  set  foot  on  the  masonry. 

For  here  is  the  Wasp  hoisting  her  prey 
backwards,  her  enormous  prey,  which  dangles 
beneath  her.  She  climbs  now  a  vertical 
plane,  now  a  slope,  according  to  the  uneven 
surface  of  the  stones.  She  crosses  gaps 
where  she  has  to  go  belly  uppermost,  while 
the  quarry  swings  to  and  fro  in  the  air.  No- 
thing stops  her;  she  keeps  on  climbing,  to  a 
height  of  six  feet  or  more,  without  selecting 
her  path,  without  seeing  her  goal,  since  she 
goes  backwards.  A  lodge  appears  no  doubt 
reconnoitred  beforehand  and  reached,  de- 
spite the  difficulties  of  an  ascent  which  did 
not  allow  her  to  see  it.  The  Pompilus 
lays  her  prey  on  it.  The  silken  tube  which 
she  inspected  so  lovingly  is  only  some  eight 
inches  distant.  She  goes  to  it,  examines  it 
rapidly  and  returns  to  the  Spider,  whom  she 
at  length  lowers  down  the  tube. 

Shortly  afterwards   I   see  her  come   out 

again.     She  searches  here  and  there  on  the 

wall  for  a   few  scraps  of  mortar,   two  or 

three  fairly  large  pieces,  which  she  carries 

27 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  the  tube,  to  close  it  up.     The  task  is  done. 
She  flies  away. 

Next  day  I  inspect  this  strange  burrow. 
The  Spider  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  silken 
tube,  isolated  on  every  side,  as  though  in  a 
hammock.  The  Wasp's  egg  is  glued  not  to 
the  ventral  surface  of  the  victim  but  to  the 
back,  about  the  middle,  near  the  beginning 
of  the  abdomen.  It  is  white,  cylindrical  and 
about  a  twelfth  of  an  inch  long.  The  few 
bits  of  mortar  which  I  saw  carried  have 
but  very  roughly  blocked  the  silken  chamber 
at  the  end.  Thus  Pompilus  apicalis  lays  her 
quarry  and  her  eggs  not  in  a  burrow  of  her 
own  making,  but  in  the  Spider's  actual  house. 
Perhaps  the  silken  tube  belongs  to  this  very 
victim,  which  in  that  event  provides  both 
board  and  lodging.  What  a  shelter  for  the 
larva  of  this  Pompilus:  the  warm  retreat  and 
downy  hammock  of  the  Segestria! 

Here  then,  already,  we  have  two  Spider- 
huntresses,  the  Ringed  Pompilus  and  P. 
apicalis,  who,  unversed  in  the  miner's  craft, 
establish  their  offspring  inexpensively  in  ac- 
cidental chinks  in  the  walls,  or  even  in  the 
lair  of  the  Spider  on  whom  the  larva  feeds. 
In  these  cells,  acquired  without  exertion,  they 
build  only  an  attempt  at  a  wall  with  a  few 
fragments  of  mortar.  But  we  must  beware 


The  Pompili 

of  generalizing  about  this  expeditious  me- 
thod of  establishment.  Other  Pompili  are 
true  diggers,  valiantly  sinking  a  burrow  in 
the  soil,  to  a  depth  of  a  couple  of  inches. 
These  include  the  Eight-spotted  Pompilus 
(P.  octopunctatus,  PANZ.),  with  her  black- 
and-yellow  livery  and  her  amber  wings,  a 
little  darker  at  the  tips.  For  her  game  she 
chooses  the  Epeirae  (E.  fasciata,  E.  sen- 
cea)^  those  fat  Spiders,  magnificently 
adorned,  who  lie  in  wait  at  the  centre  of 
their  large,  vertical  webs.  I  am  not  suffi- 
ciently acquainted  with  her  habits  to  describe 
them;  above  all,  I  know  nothing  of  her  hunt- 
ing-tactics. But  her  dwelling  is  familiar  to 
me :  it  is  a  burrow,  which  I  have  seen  her 
begin,  complete  and  close  according  to  the 
customary  method  of  the  Digger-wasps. 

1  For  the  Garden-spiders  known  as  the  Banded  Epeira 
and  the  Silky  Epeira  cf.  The  Life  of  the  Spider:  chaps, 
xi.,  xiii.,  xiv.  et  passim. —  Translator's  Note. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE 


WERE  strength  to  take  precedence  over 
the  other  zoological  attributes,  the 
Scoliae  would  hold  a  predominant  place 
in  the  front  rank  of  the  Wasps.  Some 
of  them  may  be  compared  in  size  with  the 
little  bird  from  the  north,  the  Golden-crested 
Wren,  who  comes  to  us  at  the  time  of  the 
first  autumn  mists  and  visits  the  rotten  buds. 
The  largest  and  most  imposing  of  our  sting- 
bearers,  the  Carpenter-bee,  the  Bumble-bee, 
the  Hornet,  cut  a  poor  figure  beside  certain 
of  the  Scoliae.  Of  this  group  of  giants  my 
district  possesses  the  Garden  Scolia  (S.  hor- 
torum,  VAN  DER  LIND)  ,  who  is  over  an 
inch  and  a  half  in  length  and  measures  four 
inches  from  tip  to  tip  of  her  outspread  wings, 
and  the  Hemorrhoidal  Scolia  (S.  hamor- 
rhoidalis,  VAN  DER  LIND),  who  rivals 
the  Garden  Scolia  in  point  of  size  and  is  di- 
stinguished more  particularly  by  the  bundle 
of  red  hairs  bristling  at  the  tip  of  the  ab- 
domen. 


The  Scoliae 

A  black  livery,  with  broad  yellow  patches ; 
leathery  wings,  amber-coloured,  like  the  skin 
of  an  onion,  and  watered  with  purple  reflec- 
tions ;  thick,  knotted  legs,  covered  with  sharp 
hairs;  a  massive  frame;  a  powerful  head, 
encased  in  a  hard  cranium;  a  stiff,  clumsy 
gait;  a  low,  short,  silent  flight:  this  gives 
you  a  concise  description  of  the  female,  who 
is  strongly  equipped  for  her  arduous  task. 
The  male,  being  a  mere  philanderer,  sports 
a  more  elegant  pair  of  horns,  is  more  dain- 
tily clad  and  has  a  more  graceful  figure, 
without  altogether  losing  the  quality  of  ro- 
bustness which  is  his  consort's  leading  char- 
acteristic. 

It  is  not  without  a  certain  alarm  that  the 
insect-collector  finds  himself  for  the  first  time 
confronted  by  the  Garden  Scolia.  How  is 
he  to  capture  the  imposing  creature,  how  to 
avoid  its  sting?  If  its  effect  is  in  proportion 
to  the  Wasp's  size,  the  sting  of  the  Scolia 
must  be  something  terrible.  The  Hornet, 
though  she  unsheath  her  weapon  but  once, 
causes  the  most  exquisite  pain.  What  would 
it  be  like  if  one  were  stabbed  by  this  co- 
lossus? The  prospect  of  a  swelling  as  big 
as  a  man's  fist  and  as  painful  as  the  touch 
of  a  red-hot  iron  passes  through  our  mind 
at  the  moment  when  we  are  bringing  down 
31 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  net.  And  we  refrain,  we  beat  a  retreat, 
we  are  greatly  relieved  not  to  have  aroused 
the  dangerous  creature's  attention. 

Yes,  I  confess  to  having  run  away  from  my 
first  Scoliae,  anxious  though  I  was  to  enrich 
my  budding  collection  with  this  magnificent 
insect.  There  were  painful  recollections  of 
the  Common  Wasp  and  the  Hornet  con- 
nected with  this  excess  of  prudence.  I  say 
excess,  for  to-day,  instructed  by  long  experi- 
ence, I  have  quite  recovered  from  my  former 
fears;  and,  when  I  see  a  Scolia  resting  on  a 
thistle-head,  I  do  not  scruple  to  take  her  in 
my  fingers,  without  any  precaution  what- 
ever, however  large  she  may  be  and  how- 
ever menacing  her  aspect.  My  courage  is 
not  all  that  it  seems  to  be;  I  am  quite  ready 
to  tell  the  Wasp-hunting  novice  this.  The 
Scoliae  are  notably  peaceable.  Their  sting 
is  an  implement  of  labour  far  more  than 
a  weapon  of  war;  they  use  it  to  paralyse 
the  prey  destined  for  their  offspring;  and 
only  in  the  last  extremity  do  they  employ 
it  in  self-defence.  Moreover,  the  lack  of 
agility  in  their  movements  nearly  always  en- 
ables us  to  avoid  their  sting;  and,  even  if 
we  be  stung,  the  pain  is  almost  insignificant. 
This  absence  of  any  acute  smarting  as  a  re- 
sult of  the  poison  is  almost  constant  in  the 


The  Scoliae 

Hunting  Wasps,  whose  weapon  is  a  surgical 
lancet  and  devised  for  the  most  delicate 
physiological  operations. 

Among  the  other  Scoliae  of  my  district  I 
will  mention  the  Two-banded  Scolia  (S. 
bifasciata,  VAN  DER  LIND),  whom  I  see 
every  year,  in  September,  working  at  the 
heaps  of  leaf-mould  which  are  placed  for  her 
benefit  in  a  corner  of  my  paddock;  and  the 
Interrupted  Scolia  (S.  interrupta,  LATR.), 
the  inhabitant  of  the  sandy  soil  at  the  foot 
of  the  neighbouring  hills.  Much  smaller 
than  the  two  preceding  insects,  but  also  much 
commoner,  a  necessary  condition  of  continu- 
ous observation,  they  will  provide  me  with 
the  principal  data  for  this  study  of  the 
Scoliae. 

I  open  my  old  note  book;  and  I  see  my- 
self once  more,  on  the  6th  of  August,  1857, 
in  the  Bois  des  Issards,  that  famous  copse 
near  Avignon  which  I  have  celebrated  in  my 
essay  on  the  Bembex-wasps.1  Once  again, 
my  head  crammed  with  entomological  pro- 
jects, I  am  at  the  beginning  of  my  holidays 
which,  for  two  months,  will  allow  me  to  in- 
dulge in  the  insect's  company. 

A   fig    for    Mariotte's2   flask   and   Tori- 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chap,  xiv.—  Translator's  Note. 
2Edme   Mariotte    (1620-1684),   a   French  chemist  who 
33 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

celli's  *  tube !  This  is  the  thrice-blest  per- 
iod when  I  cease  to  be  a  schoolmaster  and  be- 
come a  schoolboy,  the  schoolboy  in  love  with 
animals.  Like  a  madder-cutter  off  for  his 
day's  work,  I  set  out  carrying  over  my 
shoulder  a  solid  digging-implement,  the  local 
luchet,  and  on' my  back  my  game-bag  with 
boxes,  bottles,  trowel,  glass  tubes,  tweezers, 
lenses  and  other  impedimenta.  A  large  um- 
brella saves  me  from  sunstroke.  It  is  the 
most  scorching  hour  of  the  hottest  day  in  the 
year.  Exhausted  by  the  heat,  the  Cicadae 
are  silent.  The  bronze-eyed  Gad-flies  seek 
a  refuge  from  the  pitiless  sun  under  the  roof 
of  my  silken  shelter;  other  large  Flies,  the 
sobre-hued  Pangoniae,  dash  themselves  reck- 
lessly against  my  face. 

The  spot  at  which  I  have  installed  myself 
is  a  sandy  clearing  which  I  had  recognized 
the  year  before  as  a  site  beloved  of  the 

discovered,  independently  of  Robert  Boyle  the  Irishman 
(1627-1691),  the  law  generally  known  as  Boyle's  law, 
which  states  that  the  product  of  the  volume  and  the  tem- 
perature of  a  gas  is  constant  at  constant  temperature. 
His  flask  is  an  apparatus  contrived  to  illustrate  atmos- 
pheric pressure  and  ensure  a  constant  flow  of  liquid. 
Translator's  Note. 

1  Evangelista  Toricelli  (1608-1647),  a  disciple  of  Gali- 
leo and  professor  of  philosophy  and  mathematics  at 
Florence.  His  "tube"  is  our  mercury  barometer.  He 
was  the  first  to  obtain  a  vacuum  by  means  of  mercury; 
and  he  also  improved  the  microscope  and  the  telescope. — 
Translator's  Note. 

34 


The  Scoliae 

Scoliae.  Here  and  there  are  scattered 
thickets  of  holm-oak,  whose  dense  under- 
growth shelters  a  bed  of  dead  leaves  and  a 
thin  layer  of  mould.  My  memory  has 
served  me  well.  Here,  sure  enough,  as  the 
heat  grows  a  little  less,  appear,  coming  I 
know  not  from  whence,  some  Two-banded 
Scoliae.  The  number  increases;  and  it  is  not 
long  before  I  see  very  nearly  a  dozen  of 
them  about  me,  close  enough  for  observation. 
By  their  smaller  size  and  more  buoyant 
flight,  they  are  easily  known  for  males 
Almost  grazing  the  ground,  they  fly  softly, 
going  to  and  fro,  passing  and  repassing  in 
every  direction.  From  time  to  time  one  of 
them  alights  on  the  ground,  feels  the  sand 
with  his  antennae  and  seems  to  be  enquiring 
into  what  is  happening  in  the  depths  of  the 
soil;  then  he  resumes  his  flight,  alternately 
coming  and  going. 

What  are  they  waiting  for?  What  are 
they  seeking  in  these  evolutions  of  theirs, 
which  are  repeated  a  hundred  times  over? 
Food?  No,  for  close  beside  them  stand 
several  eryngo-stems,  whose  sturdy  clusters 
are  the  Wasps'  usual  resource  at  this  season 
of  parched  vegetation;  and  not  one  of  them 
settles  upon  the  flowers,  not  one  of  them 
seems  to  care  about  their  sugary  exudations. 
35 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Their  attention  is  engrossed  elsewhere.  It 
is  the  ground,  it  is  the  stretch  of  sand  which 
they  are  so  assiduously  exploring;  what  they 
are  waiting  for  is  the  arrival  of  some  female, 
who,  bursting  the  cocoon,  may  appear  from 
one  moment  to  the  next,  issuing  all  dusty 
from  the  ground.  She  will  not  be  given  time 
to  brush  herself  or  to  wash  her  eyes:  three 
or  four  or  more  of  them  will  be  there  at 
once,  eager  to  dispute  her  possession.  I  am 
too  familiar  with  the  amorous  contests  of 
the  Hymenopteron  clan  to  allow  myself  to 
be  mistaken.  It  is  the  rule  for  the  males, 
who  are  the  earlier  of  the  two,  to  keep  a 
close  guard  around  the  natal  spot  and  watch 
for  the  emergence  of  the  females,  whom 
they  pester  with  their  pursuit  the  moment 
they  reach  the  light  of  day.  This  is  the 
motive  of  the  interminable  ballet  of  my 
Scoliae.  Let  us  have  patience:  perhaps  we 
shall  witness  the  nuptials. 

The  hours  go  by;  the  Pangoniae  and  the 
Gad-flies  desert  my  umbrella;  the  Scoliae 
grow  weary  and  gradually  disappear.  It  is 
finished.  I  shall  see  nothing  more  to-day. 
I  repeat  my  laborious  expedition  to  the  Bois 
des  Issards  over  and  over  again;  and  each 
time  I  see  the  males  as  assiduous  as  ever  in 
skimming  over  the  ground.  My  persever- 
36 


The  Scoliae 

ance  deserved  to  succeed.  It  did,  though 
the  success  was  very  incomplete.  Let  me 
describe  it,  such  as  it  was;  the  future  will 
fill  up  the  gaps. 

A  female  issues  from  the  soil  before  my 
eyes.  She  flies  away,  followed  by  several 
males.  With  the  luchet  I  dig  at  the  point 
of  emergence;  and,  as  the  excavation  pro- 
gresses, I  sift  between  my  fingers  the  rub- 
bish of  sand  mixed  with  mould.  In  the 
sweat  of  my  brow,  as  I  may  justly  say,  I 
must  have  removed  nearly  a  cubic  yard  of 
material,  when  at  last  I  make  a  find.  This 
is  a  recently  ruptured  cocoon,  to  the  side  of 
which  adheres  an  empty  skin,  the  last  rem- 
nant of  the  game  on  which  the  larva  fed 
that  wrought  the  said  cocoon.  Considering 
the  good  condition  of  its  silken  fabric,  this 
cocoon  may  have  belonged  to  the  Scolia  who 
has  just  quitted  her  underground  dwelling 
before  my  eyes.  As  for  the  skin  accom- 
panying it,  this  has  been  so  much  spoilt  by 
the  moisture  of  the  soil  and  by  the  grassy 
roots  that  I  cannot  determine  its  origin  ex- 
actly. The  cranium,  however,  which  is  bet- 
ter-preserved, the  mandibles  and  certain  de- 
tails of  the  general  configuration  lead  me  to 
suspect  the  larva  of  a  Lamellicorn. 

It  is  getting  late.  This  is  enough  for  to- 
37 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

day.  I  am  worn  out,  but  amply  repaid  for 
my  exertions  by  a  broken  cocoon  and  the 
puzzling  skin  of  a  wretched  grub.  Young 
people  who  make  a  hobby  of  natural  history, 
would  you  like  to  discover  whether  the  sa- 
cred fire  flows  in  your  veins?  Imagine  your- 
selves returning  from  such  an  expedition. 
You  are  carrying  on  your  shoulder  the  pea- 
sant's heavy  spade;  your  loins  are  stiff  with 
the  laborious  digging  which  you  have  just 
finished  in  a  crouching  position;  the  heat  of 
an  August  afternoon  has  set  your  brain  sim- 
mering; your  eyelids  are  tired  by  the  itch 
of  an  inflammation  resulting  from  the  over- 
powering light  in  which  you  have  been  work- 
ing; you  have  a  devouring  thirst;  and  before 
you  lies  the  dusty  prospect  of  the  miles  that 
divide  you  from  your  well-earned  rest.  Yet 
something  stings  within  you;  forgetful  of 
your  present  woes  you  are  absolutely  glad  of 
your  excursion.  Why?  Because  you  have 
in  your  possession  a  shred  of  rotten  skin. 
If  this  is  so,  my  young  friends,  you  may  go 
ahead,  for  you  will  do  something,  though  I 
warn  you  that  this  does  not  mean,  by  a  long 
way,  that  you  will  get  on  in  the  world. 

I  examined  this  shred  of  skin  with  all  the 
care  that  it  deserved.     My  first  suspicions 
were  confirmed:  a  Lamellicorn,  a  Scarabaeid 
38 


The  Scoliae 

in  the  larval  state,  is  the  first  food  of  the 
Wasp  whose  cocoon  I  have  just  unearthed. 
But  which  of  the  Scarabaeidae  ?  And  does 
this  cocoon,  my  precious  booty,  really  belong 
to  the  Scolia?  The  problem  is  beginning  to 
take  shape.  To  attempt  its  solution  we  must 
go  back  to  the  Bois  des  Issards. 

I  did  go  back  and  so  often  that  my  pa- 
tience ended  by  being  exhausted  before  the 
problem  of  the  Scoliae  had  received  a  satis- 
factory solution.  The  difficulties  are  great 
indeed,  under  the  conditions.  Where  am  I 
to  dig  in  the  indefinite  stretch  of  sandy  soil 
to  light  upon  a  spot  frequented  by  the 
Scolias?  The  luchet  is  driven  into  the 
ground  at  random;  and  almost  invariably  I 
find  none  of  what  I  am  seeking.  To  be  sure, 
the  males,  flying  level  with  the  ground,  give 
me  a  hint,  at  the  outset,  with  their  certainty 
of  instinct,  as  to  the  spots  where  the  females 
ought  to  be;  but  their  hints  are  very  vague, 
because  they  go  so  far  in  every  direction. 
If  I  wished  to  examine  the  soil  which  a  single 
male  explores  in  his  flight,  with  its  constantly 
changing  course,  I  should  have  to  turn  over, 
to  the  depth  of  perhaps  a  yard,  at  least  four 
poles  of  earth.  This  is  too  much  for  my 
strength  and  the  time  at  my  disposal.  Then, 
as  the  season  advances,  the  males  disappear, 

39 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

whereupon  I  am  suddenly  deprived  of  their 
hints.  To  know  more  or  less  where  I  should 
thrust  my  luchet,  I  have  only  one  resource 
left,  which  is  to  watch  for  the  females  emer- 
ging from  the  ground  or  else  entering  it. 
With  a  great  expenditure  of  time  and  pa- 
tience I  have  at  last  had  this  windfall,  very 
rarely,  I  admit. 

The  Scoliae  do  not  dig  a  burrow  which  can 
be  compared  with  that  of  the  other  Hunting 
Wasps;  they  have  no  fixed  residence,  with 
an  unimpeded  gallery  opening  on  the  outer 
world  and  giving  access  to  the  cells,  the 
abodes  of  the  larvae.  They  have  no  en- 
trance- and  exit-doors,  no  corridor  built  in 
advance.  If  they  have  to  make  their 
way  underground,  any  point  not  hitherto 
turned  over  serves  their  purpose,  provided 
that  it  be  not  too  hard  for  their  digging- 
tools,  which,  for  that  matter,  are  very  power- 
ful; if  they  have  to  come  out,  the  point  of 
exit  is  no  less  indifferent.  The  Scolia  does 
not  bore  the  soil  through  which  she  passes: 
she  excavates  and  ploughs  it  with  her  legs 
and  forehead;  and  the  stuff  shifted  remains 
where  it  lies,  behind  her,  forthwith  blocking 
the  passage  which  she  has  followed.  When 
she  is  about  to  emerge  into  the  outer  world, 
her  advent  is  heralded  by  the  fresh  soil 
40 


The  Scoliae 

which  heaps  itself  into  a  mound  as  though 
heaved  up  by  the  snout  of  some  tiny  Mole. 
The  insect  sallies  forth;  and  the  mound  col- 
lapses, completely  filling  up  the  exit-hole. 
If  the  Wasp  is  entering  the  ground,  the  dig- 
ging-operations, undertaken  at  an  arbitrary 
point,  quickly  yield  a  cavity  in  which  the 
Scolia  disappears,  separated  from  the  sur- 
face by  the  whole  track  of  shifted  material. 

I  can  easily  trace  her  passage  through  the 
thickness  of  the  soil  by  certain  long,  winding 
cylinders,  formed  of  loose  materials  in  the 
midst  of  compact  and  stable  earth.  These 
cylinders  are  numerous;  they  sometimes  run 
to  a  depth  of  twenty  inches;  they  extend  in 
all  directions,  fairly  often  crossing  one  an- 
other. Not  one  of  them  ever  exhibits  so 
much  as  a  suspicion  of  an  open  gallery. 
They  are  obviously  not  permanent  ways  of 
communication  with  the  outer  world,  but 
hunting-trails  which  the  insect  has  followed 
once,  without  going  back  to  them.  What 
was  the  Wasp  seeking  when  she  riddled  the 
soil  with  these  tunnels  which  are  now  full 
of  running  sands?  No  doubt  the  food  for 
her  family,  the  larva  of  which  I  possess  the 
empty  skin,  now  an  unrecognizable  shred. 

I  begin  to  see  a  little  light:  the  Scolia?  are 
underground  workers.  I  already  expected 
41 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

as  much,  having  before  now  captured  Scoliae 
soiled  with  little  earthy  encrustations  on  the 
joints  of  the  legs.  The  Wasp,  who  is  so 
careful  to  keep  clean,  taking  advantage  of 
the  least  leisure  to  brush  and  polish  herself, 
could  never  display  such  blemishes  unless  she 
were  a  devoted  earth-worker.  I  used  to 
suspect  their  trade;  now  I  know  it.  They 
live  underground,  where  they  burrow  in 
search  of  Lamellicorn-grubs,  just  as  the 
Mo-le  burrows  in  search  of  the  White 
Worm.1  It  is  even  possible  that,  after  re- 
ceiving the  embraces  of  the  males,  they  but 
very  rarely  return  to  the  surface,  absorbed 
as  they  are  by  their  maternal  duties;  and 
this,  no  doubt,  is  why  my  patience  becomes 
exhausted  in  watching  for  their  entrance  and 
their  emergence. 

It  is  in  the  subsoil  that  they  establish 
themselves  and  travel  to  and  fro;  with  the 
help  of  their  powerful  mandibles,  their  hard 
cranium,  their  strong,  prickly  legs,  they  easily 
make  themselves  paths  in  the  loose  earth. 
They  are  living  ploughshares.  By  the  end 
of  August,  therefore,  the  female  population 
is  for  the  most  part  underground,  busily 

1  The  larva  of  the  Cockchafer.  This  grub  takes  three 
years  or  more  to  arrive  at  maturity  underground. — 
Translator's  Note. 

42 


The  Scoliae 

occupied  in  egg-laying  and  provisioning. 
Everything  seems  to  tell  me  that  I  should 
watch  in  vain  for  the  appearance  of  a  few 
females  in  the  broad  daylight;  I  must  resign 
myself  to  excavating  at  random. 

The  result  was  hardly  commensurate  with 
the  labour  which  I  expended  on  digging.  I 
found  a  few  cocoons,  nearly  all  broken,  like 
the  one  which  I  already  possessed,  and,  like 
it,  bearing  on  their  side  the  tattered  skin  of 
a  larva  of  the  same  Scarabaeid.  Two  of 
these  cocoons  which  are  still  intact  contained 
a  dead  adult  Wasp.  This  was  actually  the 
Two-banded  Scolia,  a  precious  discovery 
which  changed  my  suspicions  into  a  certainty. 

I  also  unearthed  some  cocoons,  slightly 
different  in  appearance,  containing  an  adult 
inmate,  likewise  dead,  in  whom  I  recognized 
the  Interrupted  Scolia.  The  remnants  of 
the  provisions  again  consisted  of  the  empty 
skin  of  a  larva,  also  a  Lamellicorn,  but  not 
the  same  as  the  one  hunted  by  the  first 
Scolia.  And  this  was  all.  Now  here,  now 
there,  I  shifted  a  few  cubic  yards  of  soil, 
without  managing  to  find  fresh  provisions 
with  the  egg  or  the  young  larva.  And  yet 
it  was  the  right  season,  the  egg-laying  season, 
for  the  males,  numerous  at  the  outset,  had 
grown  rarer  day  by  day  until  they  disap- 

43 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

peared  entirely.  My  lack  of  success  was 
due  to  the  uncertainty  of  my  excavations,  in 
which  I  had  nothing  to  guide  me  over  the 
indefinite  area  covered. 

If  I  could  at  least  identify  the  Scarabaeidae 
whose  larvae  form  the  prey  of  the  two  Scolise, 
the  problem  would  be  half  solved.  Let  us 
try.  I  collect  all  that  the  luchet  has  turned 
up:  larvae,  nymphs  and  adult  Beetles.  My 
booty  comprises  two  species  of  Lamellicorns : 
Anoxia  villosa  and  Euchlora  Julii,  both  of 
whom  I  find  in  the  perfect  state,  usually 
dead,  but  sometimes  alive.  I  obtain  a  few 
of  their  nymphs,  a  great  piece  of  luck,  for 
the  larval  skin  which  accompanies  them  will 
serve  me  as  a  standard  of  comparison.  I 
come  upon  plenty  of  larvae,  of  all  ages. 
When  I  compare  them  with  the  cast  garment 
abandoned  by  the  nymphs,  I  recognize  some 
as  belonging  to  the  Anoxia  and  the  rest  to  the 
Euchlora. 

With  these  data,  I  perceive  with  absolute 
certainty  that  the  empty  skin  adhering  to  the 
cocoon  of  the  Interrupted  Scolia  belongs  to 
the  Anoxia.  As  for  the  Euchlora,  she  is  not 
involved  in  the  problem :  the  larva  hunted  by 
the  Two-banded  Scolia  does  not  belong  to 
her  any  more  than  it  belongs  to  the  Anoxia. 
Then  with  which  Scarabaeid  does  the  empty 

44 


The  Scoliae 

skin  which  is  still  unknown  to  me  corre- 
spond? The  Lamellicorn  whom  I  am  seek- 
ing must  exist  in  the  ground  which  I  have 
been  exploring,  because  the  Two-banded 
Scolia  has  established  herself  there.  Later 
—  oh,  very  long  afterwards !  —  I  recog- 
nized where  my  search  was  at  fault.  In 
order  not  to  find  a  network  of  roots  beneath 
my  luchet  and  to  render  the  work  of  excava- 
tion lighter,  I  was  digging  the  bare  places,  at 
some  distance  from  the  thickets  of  holm-oak; 
and  it  was  just  in  those  thickets,  which  are 
rich  in  vegetable  mould,  that  I  should  have 
sought.  There,  near  the  old  stumps,  in  the 
soil  consisting  of  dead  leaves  and  rotting 
wood,  I  should  certainly  have  come  upon 
the  larva  so  greatly  desired,  as  will  be  proved 
by  what  I  have  still  to  say. 

Here  ends  what  my  earlier  investigations 
taught  me.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
the  Bois  des  Issards  would  never  have  fur- 
nished me  with  the  precise  data,  in  the  form 
in  which  I  wanted  them.  The  remoteness 
of  the  spot,  the  fatigue  of  the  expeditions, 
which  the  heat  rendered  intensely  exhausting, 
the  impossibility  of  knowing  which  points  to 
attack  would  undoubtedly  have  discouraged 
me  before  the  problem  had  advanced  a  step 
farther.  Studies  such  as  these  call  for  home 

45 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

leisure  and  application,  for  residence  in  a 
country  village.  You  are  then  familiar  with 
every  spot  in  your  own  grounds  and  the  sur- 
rounding country  and  you  can  go  to  work 
with  certainty. 

Twenty-three  years  have  passed;  and  here 
I  am  at  Serignan,  where  I  have  become  a 
peasant,  working  by  turns  on  my  writing-pad 
and  my  cabbage-patch.  On  the  I4th  of  Au- 
gust, 1880,  Favier  1  clears  away  a  heap  of 
mould  consisting  of  vegetable  refuse  and  of 
leaves  stacked  in  a  corner  against  the  wall 
of  the  paddock.  This  clearance  is  consi- 
dered necessary  because  Bull,  when  the  lov- 
ers' moon  arrives,  uses  this  hillock  to  climb 
to  the  top  of  the  wall  and  thence  to  repair  to 
the  canine  wedding  the  news  of  which  is 
brought  to  him  by  the  effluvia  borne  upon 
the  air.  His  pilgrimage  fulfilled,  he  returns, 
with  a  discomfited  look  and  a  slit  ear,  but 
always  ready,  once  he  has  had  his  feed,  to 
repeat  the  escapade.  To  put  an  end  to  this 
licentious  behaviour,  which  has  cost  him  so 
many  gaping  wounds,  we  decided  to  remove 
the  heap  of  soil  which  serves  him  as  a  ladder 
of  escape. 

1  An  ex-soldier  who  acted  as  the  author's  gardener  and 
factotum. —  Translator's  Note. 
46 


The  Scoliae 

Favier  calls  me  while  in  the  midst  of  his 
labours  with  the  spade  and  barrow : 

"Here's  a  find,  sir,  a  great  find!  Come 
and  look." 

I  hasten  to  the  spot.  The  find  is  a  mag- 
nificent one  indeed  and  of  a  nature  to  fill  me 
with  delight,  awakening  all  my  old  recollec- 
tions of  the  Bois  des  Issards.  Any  number 
of  females  of  the  Two-banded  Scolia,  dis- 
turbed at  their  work,  are  emerging  here  and 
there  from  the  depth  of  the  soil.  The  co- 
coons also  are  plentiful,  each  lying  next  to 
the  skin  of  the  victim  on  which  the  larva  has 
fed.  They  are  all  open  but  still  fresh :  they 
date  from  the  present  generation;  the  Scoliae 
whom  I  unearth  have  quitted  them  not  long 
since.  I  learnt  later,  in  fact,  that  the  hatch- 
ing took  place  in  the  course  of  July. 

In  the  same  heap  of  mould  is  a  swarming 
colony  of  Scarabaeidae  in  the  form  of  larvae, 
nymphs  and  adult  insects.  It  includes  the 
largest  of  our  Beetles,  the  common  Rhino- 
ceros Beetle,  or  Oryctes  nasicornis.  I  find 
some  who  have  been  recently  liberated, 
whose  wing-cases,  of  a  glossy  brown,  now 
see  the  sunlight  for  the  first  time;  I  find 
others  enclosed  in  their  earthen  shell,  al- 
most as  big  as  a  Turkey's  egg.  More  fre- 
47 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

quent  is  her  powerful  larva,  with  its  heavy 
paunch,  bent  into  a  hook.  I  note  the  pre- 
sence of  a  second  bearer  of  the  nasal  horn, 
Oryctes  Silenus,  who  is  much  smaller  than 
her  kinswoman,  and  of  Pentodon  punctatus, 
a  Scarabaeid  who  ravages  my  lettuces. 

But  the  predominant  population  consists  of 
Cetoniae,  or  Rosechafers,  most  of  them  en- 
closed in  their  egg-shaped  shells,  with  earth- 
en walls  encrusted  with  dung.  There  are 
three  different  species :  C.  aurata,  C.  mono 
and  C.  floricola.  Most  of  them  belong 
to  the  first  species.  Their  larvae,  which  are 
easily  recognized  by  their  singular  talent  for 
walking  on  their  backs  with  their  legs  in  the 
air,  are  numbered  by  the  hundred.  Every 
age  is  represented,  from  the  new-born  grub 
to  the  podgy  larva  on  the  point  of  building 
its  shell. 

This  time  the  problem  of  the  victuals  is 
solved.  When  I  compare  the  larval  slough 
sticking  to  the  Scolia's  cocoons  with  the 
Cetonia-larvae  or,  better,  with  the  skin  cast 
by  these  larvae,  under  cover  of  the  cocoon, 
at  the  moment  of  the  nymphal  transforma- 
tion, I  establish  an  absolute  identity.  The 
Two-banded  Scolia  rations  each  of  her  eggs 
with  a  Cetonia-grub.  Behold  the  riddle 
which  my  irksome  searches  in  the  Bois  des 


The  Scoliae 

Issards  had  not  enabled  me  to  solve.  To- 
day, at  my  threshold,  the  difficult  problem 
becomes  child's  play.  I  can  investigate  the 
question  easily  to  the  fullest  possible  extent; 
I  need  not  put  myself  out  at  all;  at  any  hour 
of  the  day,  at  any  period  that  seems  fa- 
vourable, I  have  the  requisite  elements  be- 
fore my  eyes.  Ah,  dear  village,  so  poor,  so 
countrified,  how  happily  inspired  was  I  when 
I  came  to  ask  of  you  a  hermit's  retreat, 
where  I  could  live  in  the  company  of  my  be- 
loved insects  and,  in  so  doing,  set  down  not 
too  unworthily  a  few  chapters  of  their  won- 
derful history ! 

According  to  the  Italian  observer  Passer- 
ini,  the  Garden  Scolia  feeds  her  family  on 
the  larvae  of  Oryctes  nasicornis,  in  the  heaps 
of  old  tan-waste  removed  from  the  hot- 
houses. I  do  not  despair  of  seeing  this 
colossal  Wasp  coming  to  establish  herself 
one  day  in  my  heaps  of  leaf-mould,  in  which 
the  same  Scarabaeid  is  swarming.  Her 
rarity  in  my  part  of  the  country  is  probably 
the  only  cause  that  has  hitherto  prevented 
the  realization  of  my  wishes. 

I  have  just  shown  that  the  Two-banded 
Scolia  feeds  in  infancy  on  Cetonia-larvae  and 
particularly  on  those  of  C.  aurata,  C.  morio 
and  C.  floricola.  These  three  species  dwell 


49 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

together  in  the  rubbish-heap  just  explored; 
their  larvae  differ  so  little  that  I  should  have 
to  examine  them  minutely  to  distinguish  the 
one  from  the  other;  and  even  then  I  should 
not  be  certain  of  succeeding.  It  seems  pro- 
bable that  the  Scolia  does  not  choose  be- 
tween them,  th'at  she  uses  all  three  indis- 
criminately. Perhaps  she  even  assails  other 
larvae,  inhabitants,  like  the  foregoing,  of 
heaps  of  rotting  vegetable-matter.  I  there- 
fore set  down  the  Cetonia  genus  generally 
as  forming  the  prey  of  the  Twp-banded 
Scolia. 

Lastly,  round  about  Avignon,  the  Inter- 
rupted Scolia  used  to  prey  upon  the  larva  of 
the  Shaggy  Anoxia  (A.  villosa).  At  Serig- 
nan,  which  is  surrounded  by  the  same  kind 
of  sandy  soil,  without  other  vegetation  than 
a  few  sparse  seed-bearing  grasses,  I  find  her 
rationing  her  young  with  the  Morning  An- 
oxia (A.  matutinalis) .  Oryctes,  Cetoniae 
and  Anoxiae  in  the  larval  state :  here  then  is 
the  prey  of  the  three  Scoliae  whose  habits  we 
know.  The  three  Beetles  are  Lamellicorns, 
Scarabaeidae.  We  shall  have  occasion  later 
to  consider  the  reason  of  this  very  striking 
coincidence. 

For  the  moment,  the  business  in  hand  is 
to  move  the  heap  of  leaf-mould  to  some 
50 


The  Scoliae 

other  place,  with  the  wheelbarrow.  This  is 
Favier's  work,  while  I  myself  collect  the  dis- 
turbed population  in  glass  jars,  in  order  to 
put  them  back  into  the  new  rubbish-heap 
with  all  the  consideration  which  my  plans 
owe  to  them.  The  laying-time  has  not  yet 
set  in,  for  I  find  no  eggs,  no  young  Scolia- 
larvae.  September  apparently  will  be  the 
propitious  month.  But  there  are  bound  to 
be  many  injured  in  the  course  of  this  up- 
heaval; some  of  the  Scoliae  have  flown  away 
who  will  perhaps  have  a  certain  difficulty  in 
finding  the  new  site;  I  have  disarranged 
everything  in  the  overturned  heap.  To  al- 
low tranquility  to  be  restored  and  habit  to 
resume  its  rounds,  to  give  the  population 
time  to  increase  and  replace  the  fugitives  and 
the  injured,  it  would  be  best,  I  think,  to 
leave  the  heap  alone  this  year  and  not  to 
resume  my  investigations  until  the  next. 
After  the  thorough  confusion  due  to  the 
removal,  I  should  jeopardize  success  by  being 
too  precipitate.  Let  us  wait  one  year  more. 
I  decide  accordingly,  curb  my  impatience  and 
resign  myself.  We  will  simply  confine  our- 
selves to  enlarging  the  heap,  when  the  leaves 
begin  to  fall,  by  accumulating  the  refuse  that 
strews  the  paddock,  so  that  we  may  have  a 
richer  field  of  operations. 
51 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

In  the  following  August,  my  visits  to  the 
mound  of  leaf-mould  become  a  daily  habit. 
By  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  the 
sun  has  cleared  the  adjacent  pine-trees  and 
is  shining  on  the  heap,  numbers  of  male 
Scoliag  arrive  from  the  neighbouring  fields, 
where  they  have  been  slaking  their  thirst  on 
the  eryngo-heads.  Incessantly  coming  and 
going  with  an  indolent  flight,  they  circle 
round  the  heap.  If  some  female  rise  from 
the  soil,  those  who  have  seen  her  dart  for- 
ward. A  not  very  turbulent  affray  decides 
which  of  the  suitors  shall  be  the  possessor; 
and  the  couple  fly  away  over  the  wall.  This 
is  a  repetition  of  what  I  used  to  see  in  the 
Bois  des  Issards.  By  the  time  that  August 
is  over,  the  males  have  ceased  to  show  them- 
selves. The  mothers  do  not  appear  either: 
they  are  busy  underground,  establishing  their 
families. 

On  the  2nd  of  September,  I  decide  upon 
a  search  with  my  son  Emile,  who  handles 
the  fork  and  the  shovel,  while  I  examine  the 
clods  dug  up.  Victory!  A  magnificent  re- 
sult, finer  than  any  that  my  fondest  ambition 
would  have  dared  to  contemplate !  Here  is 
a  vast  array  of  Cetonia-larvae,  all  flaccid,  mo- 
tionless, lying  on  their  backs,  with  a  Scolia's 
egg  sticking  to  the  centre  of  their  abdomen; 
52 


The  Scoliae 

here  are  young  Scolia-larvae  dipping  their 
heads  into  the  entrails  of  their  victims;  here 
are  others  farther  advanced,  munching  their 
last  mouthfuls  of  a  prey  which  is.  drained 
dry  and  reduced  to  a  skin;  here  are  some 
laying  the  foundation  of  their  cocoons  with 
a  reddish  silk,  which  looks  as  if  it  had  been 
dyed  in  Bullock's  blood;  here  are  some  whose 
cocoons  are  finished.  There  is  plenty  of 
everything,  from  the  egg  to  the  larva  whose 
period  of  activity  is  over.  I  mark  the  2nd 
of  September  as  a  red-letter  day;  it  has  given 
me  the  final  key  to  a  riddle  which  has  kept 
me  in  suspense  for  nearly  half  a  century. 

I  place  my  spoils  religiously  in  shallow, 
wide-mouthed  glass  jars  containing  a  layer 
of  finely  sifted  mould.  In  this  soft  bed, 
which  is  identical  in  character  with  the  natal 
surroundings,  I  make  some  faint  impressions 
with  my  fingers,  so  many  cavities,  each  of 
which  receives  one  of  my  subjects,  one  only. 
A  pane  of  glass  covers  the  mouth  of  the 
receptacle.  In  this  way  I  prevent  a  too 
rapid  evaporation  and  keep  my  nurslings 
under  my  eyes  without  fear  of  disturbing 
them.  Ndw  that  all  this  is  in  order,  let  us 
proceed  to  record  events. 

The  Cetonia-larvae  which  I  find  with  a  Sco- 
lia's  egg  upon  their  ventral  surface  are  dis- 
53 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

tributed  in  the  mould  at  random,  without 
special  cavities,  without  any  sign  of  some 
sort  of  structure.  They  are  smothered  in 
the  mould,  just  as  are  the  larvae  which  have 
not  been  injured  by  the  Wasp.  As  my  ex- 
cavations in  the  Bois  des  Issards  told  me, 
the  Scolia  does  not  prepare  a  lodging  for  her 
family;  she  knows  nothing  of  the  art  of  cell- 
building.  Her  offspring  occupies  a  fortui- 
tous abode,  on  which  the  mother  expends  no 
architectural  pains.  Whereas  the  other 
Hunting  Wasps  prepare  a  dwelling  to  which 
the  provisions  are  carried,  sometimes  from 
a  distance,  the  Scolia  confines  herself  to  dig- 
ging her  bed  of  leaf-mould  until  she  comes 
upon  a  Cetonia-larva.  When  she  finds  a 
quarry,  she  stabs  it  on  the  spot,  in  order  to 
immobilize  it;  and,  again  on  the  spot,  she 
lays  an  egg  on  the  ventral  surface  of  the 
paralysed  creature.  That  is  all.  The 
mother  goes  in  quest  of  another  prey  with- 
out troubling  further  about  the  egg  which 
has  just  been  laid.  There  is  no  effort  of 
carting  or  building.  At  the  very  spot  where 
the  Cetonia-grub  is  caught  and  paralysed, 
the  Scolia-larva  hatches,  grows  and  weaves 
its  cocoon.  The  establishment  of  the  fami- 
ly is  thus  reduced  to  the  simplest  possible 
expression. 

54 


CHAPTER  III 

A   DANGEROUS   DIET 

THE  Scolia's  egg  is  in  no  way  excep- 
tional in  shape.  It  is  white,  cylindri- 
cal, straight  and  about  four  millimetres  long 
by  one  millimetre  thick.1  It  is  fixed,  by  its 
fore-end,  upon  the  median  line  of  the  vic- 
tim's abdomen,  well  to  the  rear  of  the  legs, 
near  the  beginning  of  the  brown  patch 
formed  by  the  mass  of  food  under  the  skin. 
I  watch  the  hatching.  The  grub,  still 
wearing  upon  its  hinder  parts  the  delicate 
pellicle  which  it  has  just  shed,  is  fixed  to  the 
spot  to  which  the  egg  itself  adhered  by  its 
cephalic  extremity.  A  striking  spectacle, 
that  of  the  feeble  creature,  only  this  moment 
hatched,  boring,  for  its  first  mouthful,  into 
the  paunch  of  its  enormous  prey,  which  lies 
stretched  upon  its  back.  The  nascent  tooth 
takes  a  day  over  the  difficult  task.  Next 
morning  the  skin  has  yielded;  and  I  find  the 
new-born  larva  with  its  head  plunged  into  a 
small,  round,  bleeding  wound. 

1  About   .156  X  ,039   inch. —  Translator's  Note. 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

In  size  the  grub  is  the  same  as  the  egg, 
whose  dimensions  I  have  just  given.  Now 
the  Cetonia-larva,  to  meet  the  Scolia's  re- 
quirements, averages  thirty  millimetres  in 
length  by  nine  in  thickness,1  whence  follows 
that  its  bulk  is  six  or  seven  hundred  times 
as  great  as  that  of  the  newly-hatched  grub 
of  the  Scolia.  Here  certainly  is  a  quarry 
which,  were  it  active  and  capable  of  wrig- 
gling and  biting,  would  expose  the  nurseling 
to  terrible  risks.  The  danger  has  been 
averted  by  the  mother's  stiletto;  and  the  fra- 
gile grub  attacks  the  monster's  paunch  with 
as  little  hesitation  as  though  it  were  sucking 
the  breast. 

Day  by  day  the  young  Scolia's  head  pene- 
trates farther  into  the  Cetonia's  belly.  To 
pass  through  the  narrow  orifice  made  in  the 
skin,  the  fore-part  of  the  body  contracts  and 
lengthens  out,  as  though  drawn  through  a 
die-plate.  The  larva  thus  assumes  a  rather 
strange  form.  Its  hinder  half,  which  is  con- 
stantly outside  the  victim's  belly,  has  the 
shape  and  fullness  usual  in  the  larvae  of  the 
Digger-wasps,  whereas  the  front  half,  which, 
once  it  has  dived  under  the  skin  of  the  ex- 
ploited victim,  does  not  come  out  again  un- 
til the  time  arrives  for  spinning  the  cocoon, 

1 1.17  X  .35   inch. —  Translator's  Note. 
56 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

tapers  off  suddenly  into  a  snake-like  neck. 
This  front  part  is  moulded,  so  to  speak,  by 
the  narrow  entrance-hole  made  in  the  skin 
and  henceforth  retains  its  slender  formation. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  similar  configuration 
recurs,  in  varying  degrees,  in  the  larvae  of 
the  Digger-wasps  whose  ration  consists  of 
a  bulky  quarry  which  takes  a  long  time  to 
consume.  These  include  the  Languedocian 
Sphex,  with  her  Ephippiger,  and  the  Hairy 
Ammophila,  with  her  Grey  Worm.  There 
is  none  of  this  sudden  constriction,  dividing 
the  creature  into  two  disparate  halves,  when 
the  victuals  consist  of  numerous  and  com- 
paratively small  items.  The  larva  then  re- 
tains its  usual  shape,  being  obliged  to  pass, 
at  brief  intervals,  from  one  joint  in  its  larder 
to  the  next. 

From  the  first  bite  of  the  mandibles,  un- 
til the  whole  head  of  game  is  consumed,  the 
Scolia-larva  is  never  seen  to  withdraw  its 
head  and  its  long  neck  from  inside  the  crea- 
ture which  it  is  devouring.  I  suspect  the 
reason  of  this  persistence  in  attacking  a  single 
point;  I  even  seem  to  perceive  the  need  for 
a  special  art  in  the  manner  of  eating.  The 
Cetonia-larva  is  a  square  meal  in  itself,  one 
large  dish,  which  has  to  retain  a  suitable 
freshness  until  the  end.  The  young  Scolia, 
57 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

therefore,  must  attack  with  discretion,  at  the 
unvarying  point  chosen  by  the  mother  on  the 
ventral  surface,  for  the  entrance-hole  is  at 
the  exact  point  where  the  egg  was  fixed. 
As  the  nursling's  neck  lengthens  and  dives 
deeper,  the  victim's  entrails  are  nibbled 
gradually  and  methodically:  first,  the  least 
essential;  next,  those  whose  removal  leaves 
yet  a  remnant  of  life;  lastly,  those  whose 
loss  inevitably  entails  death,  followed  very 
soon  by  putrefaction. 

At  the  first  bites  we  see  the  victim's  blood 
oozing  through  the  wound.  It  is  a  highly- 
elaborated  fluid,  easy  of  digestion,  and  forms 
a  sort  of  milk-diet  for  the  new-born  grub. 
The  little  ogre's  teat  is  the  bleeding  paunch 
of  the  Cetonia-larva.  The  latter  will  not 
die  of  the  wound,  at  least  not  for  some  time. 
The  next  thing  to  be  tackled  is  the  fatty 
substance  which  wraps  the  internal  organs 
in  its  delicate  folds.  This  again  is  a  loss 
which  the  Cetonia  can  suffer  without  dying 
then  and  there.  Now  comes  the  turn  of 
the  muscular  layer  which  lines  the  skin;  now, 
that  of  the  essential  organs;  now,  that  of 
the  nerve-centres  and  the  trachean  network, 
whereupon  the  last  gleam  of  light  is  extin- 
guished and  the  Cetonia  reduced  to  a  mere 
bag,  empty  but  intact,  save  for  the  entrance- 
58 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

hole  made  in  the  middle  of  the  belly.  From 
now  onwards,  these  remains  may  rot  if  they 
will :  the  Scolia,  by  its  methodical  fashion  of 
consuming  its  victuals,  has  succeeded  in  keep- 
ing them  fresh  to  the  very  last ;  and  now  you 
may  see  it,  replete,  shining  with  health,  with- 
draw its  long  neck  from  the  bag  of  skin  and 
prepare  to  weave  the  cocoon  in  which  its 
development  will  be  completed. 

It  is  possible  that  I  may  not  be  quite  ac- 
curate as  to  the  precise  order  in  which  the 
organs  are  consumed,  for  it  is  not  easy  to 
perceive  what  happens  inside  the  exploited 
larva's  body.  The  ruling  feature  in  this 
scientific  method  of  eating,  which  proceeds 
from  the  parts  less  to  the  parts  more  neces- 
sary to  preserve  a  remnant  of  life,  is  none  the 
less  obvious.  If  direct  observation  did  not 
already  to  some  degree  confirm  it,  a  mere  ex- 
amination of  the  half-eaten  larva  would  do 
so  in  the  most  positive  fashion. 

The  Cetonia-larva  is  at  first  a  plump  grub. 
Drained  by  the  Scolia's  tooth,  it  gradually 
becomes  limp  and  wrinkled.  In  a  few  days' 
time  it  resembles  a  shrivelled  bit  of  bacon- 
fat  and  then  a  bag  whose  two  sides  have 
fallen  in.  Yet  this  bit  of  bacon  and  this 
bag  have  the  same  characteristic  look  of 
fresh  meat  as  had  the  grub  before  it  was 

59 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

bitten  into.  Despite  the  persistent  nibbling 
of  the  Scolia,  life  continues,  holding  at  bay 
the  inroads  of  putrefaction  until  the  mandi- 
bles have  given  their  last  bites.  Does  not 
this  remnant  of  tenacious  vitality  in  itself 
show  that  the  organs  of  primary  importance 
are  the  last  to  be  attacked?  Does  it  not 
prove  that  there  is  a  progressive  dismem- 
berment passing  from  the  less  essential  to 
the  indispensable? 

Would  you  like,  to  see  what  becomes  of  a 
Cetonia-larva  when  the  organism  is  wounded 
in  its  vital  centres  at  the  very  beginning? 
The  experiment  is  an  easy  one;  and  I  made 
a  point  of  trying  it.  A  sewing-needle,  first 
softened  and  flattened  into  a  blade,  then  re- 
tempered  and  sharpened,  gives  me  a  most 
delicate  scalpel.  With  this  instrument  I 
make  a  fine  incision,  through  which  I  remove 
the  mass  of  nerves  whose  remarkable  struc- 
ture we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  study. 
The  thing  is  done :  the  wound,  which  does 
not  look  serious,  has  left  the  creature  a 
corpse,  a  real  corpse.  I  lay  my  victim  on  a 
bed  of  moist  earth,  in  a  jar  wit'h  a  glass  lid; 
in  fact,  I  establish  it  in  the  same  conditions 
as  those  of  the  larvae  on  which  the  Scolia? 
feed.  By  the  next  day,  without  changing 
shape,  it  has  turned  a  repulsive  brown;  pre- 
60 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

sently  it  dissolves  into  noisome  putrescence. 
On  the  same  bed  of  earth,  under  the  same 
glass  cover,  in  the  same  moist,  warm  atmos- 
phere, the  larvae  three-quarters  eaten  by  the 
Scolias  retain,  on  the  contrary,  the  appear- 
ance of  healthy  flesh. 

If  a  single  stroke  of  my  dagger,  fashioned 
from  the  point  of  a  needle,  results  in  im- 
mediate death  and  early  putrefaction;  if  the 
repeated  bites  of  the  Scolia  gut  the  crea- 
ture's body  and  reduce  it  almost  to  a  skin 
without  completely  killing  it,  the  striking  con- 
trast between  these  two  results  must  be  due 
to  the  relative  importance  of  the  organs  in- 
jured. I  destroy  the  nerve-centres  and  in- 
evitably kill  my  larva,  which  is  putrid  by  the 
following  day;  the  Scolia  attacks  the  reserves 
of  fat,  the  blood,  the  muscles  and  does  not 
kill  its  victim,  which  will  provide  it  with 
wholesome  food  until  the  end.  But  it  is 
clear  that,  if  the  Scolia  were  to  set  to  work 
as  I  did,  there  would  be  nothing  left,  after 
the  first  few  bites,  but  an  actual  corpse,  dis- 
charging fluids  which  would  be  fatal  to  it 
within  twenty-four  hours.  The  mother,  it 
is  true,  in  order  to  assure  the  immobility  of 
her  prey,  has  injected  the  poison  of  her  sting 
into  the  nerve-centres.  Her  operation  can- 
not be  compared  with  mine  in  any  respect. 
61 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

She  practices  the  method  of  the  skilful 
physiologist  who  induces  anaesthesia;  I  go 
to  work  like  the  butcher  who  chops,  cuts  and 
disembowels.  The  sting  leaves  the  nerve- 
centres  intact.  Deprived  of  sensibility  by 
the  poison,  they  have  lost  the  power  of  pro- 
voking muscular  contractions;  but  who  can 
say  that,  numbed  as  they  are,  they  no  longer 
serve  to  maintain  a  faint  vitality?  The 
flame  is  extinguished,  but  ther'e  is  still  a  glow- 
ing speck  upon  the  wick,  I,  a  rough  blun- 
derer, do  more  than  blow  out  the  lamp:  I 
throw  away  the  wick  and  all  is  over.  The 
grub  would  do  the  same  if  it  bit  straight  into 
the  mass  of  nerves. 

Everything  confirms  the  fact:  the  Scolia 
and  the  other  Hunting  Wasps  whose  provi- 
sions consist  of  bulky  heads  of  game  are 
gifted  with  a  special  art  of  eating,  an  ex- 
quisitely delicate  art  which  saves  a  remnant 
of  life  in  the  prey  devoured,  until  it  is  all 
consumed.  When  the  prey  is  a  small  one, 
this  precaution  is  superfluous.  Consider, 
for  instance,  the  Bembex-grubs  in  the  midst 
of  their  heap  of  Flies.  The  prey  seized 
upon  is  broached  on  the  back,  the  belly,  the 
head,  the  thorax,  indifferently.  The  larva 
munches  .a  given  spot,  which  it  leaves  to 
munch  a  second,  passing  to  a  third  and  a 
62 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

fourth,  at  the  bidding  of  its  changing  whims. 
It  seems  to  taste  and  select,  by  repeated 
trials,  the  mouthfuls  most  to  its  liking. 
Thus  bitten  at  several  points,  covered  with 
wounds,  the  Fly  is  soon  a  shapeless  mass 
which  would  putrefy  very  quickly  if  the 
meagre  dish  were  not  devoured  at  a  single 
meal.  Allow  the  Scolia-grub  the  same  un- 
licensed gluttony:  it  would  perish  beside  its 
corpulent  victim,  which  should  have  kept 
fresh  for  a  fortnight,  but  which  almost  from 
the  beginning  would  be  no  more  than  a  filthy 
putrescence. 

This  art  of  careful  eating  does  not  seem 
easy  to  practise;  at  least,  the  larva,  if  ever 
so  little  diverted  from  its  usual  courses,  is 
no  longer  able  to  apply  its  talent  as  a  capable 
trencherman.  This  will  be  proved  by  exper- 
iment. I  must  begin  by  observing  that, 
when  I  spoke  of  my  larva  which  turned 
putrid  within  twenty-four  hours,  I  adopted 
an  extreme  case  for  the  sake  of  greater 
clearness.  The  Scolia,  taking  its  first  bite, 
does  not  and  cannot  go  to  such  lengths. 
Nevertheless  it  behooves  us  to  enquire 
whether,  in  the  consumption  of  the  victuals, 
the  initial  point  of  attack  is  a  matter  of  in- 
difference and  whether  the  rummaging 
through  the  entrails  of  the  victim  entails  a 
63 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

determined  order,  without  which  success  is 
uncertain  or  even  impossible.  To  these  deli- 
cate questions  no  one,  I  think,  can  reply. 
Where  science  is  silent,  perhaps  the  grub 
will  speak.  We  will  try. 

I  move  from  its  position  a  Scolia-grub 
which  has  attained  a  quarter  or  a  third  of 
its  full  growth.  The  long  neck  plunged  into 
the  victim's  belly  is  rather  difficult  to  extract, 
because  of  the  need  of  molesting  the  creature 
as  little  as  possible.  I  succeed,  by  means  of 
a  little  patience  and  repeated  strokes  with  the 
tip  of  a  paint-brush.  I  now  turn  the  Ce- 
tonia-larva  over,  back  uppermost,  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  little  hollow  made  by  pressing 
my  finger  in  the  layer  of  mould.  Lastly,  I 
place  the  Scolia  on  its  victim's  back.  Here 
is  my  grub  under  the  same  conditions  as  just 
now,  with  this  difference,  that  the  back  and 
not  the  belly  of  its  victim  is  presented  to  its 
mandibles. 

I  watch  it  for  a  whole  afternoon.  It 
writhes  about;  it  moves  its  little  head  now  in 
this  direction,  now  in  that,  frequently  lay- 
ing it  on  the  Cetonia,  but  without  fixing  it 
anywhere.  The  day  draws  to  a  close;  and 
still  it  has  accomplished  nothing.  There  are 
restless  movements,  nothing  more.  Hun- 
ger, I  tell  myself,  will  eventually  induce  it  to 
64 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

bite.  I  am  wrong.  Next  morning  I  find 
it  more  anxious  than  the  day  before  and  still 
groping  about,  without  resolving  to  fix  its 
mandibles  anywhere.  I  leave  it  alone  for 
half  a  day  longer  without  obtaining  any  re- 
sult. Yet  twenty-four  hours  of  abstinence 
must  have  awakened  a  good  appetite,  above 
all  in  a  creature  which,  if  left  undisturbed, 
would  not  have  ceased  eating. 

Excessive  hunger  cannot  induce  it  to  nib- 
ble at  an  unlawful  spot.  Is  this  due  to 
feebleness  of  the  teeth?  By  no  means:  the 
Cetonia's  skin  is  no  tougher  on  the  back 
than  on  the  belly;  moreover,  the  grub  is 
capable  of  perforating  the  skin  when  it 
leaves  the  egg;  a  fortiori,  it  must  be  more 
capable  of  doing  so  now  that  it  has  attained 
a  sturdy  growth.  Thus  we  see  no  lack  of 
ability,  but  an  obstinate  refusal  to  nibble  at 
a  point  which  ought  to  be  respected.  Who 
knows?  On  this  side  perhaps  the  grub's 
dorsal  vessel  would  be  wounded,  its  heart, 
an  organ  indispensable  to  life.  The  fact  re- 
mains that  my  attempts  to  make  the  grub 
tackle  its  victim  from  the  back  have  failed. 
Does  this  mean  that  it  entertains  the  least 
suspicion  of  the  danger  which  it  might  incur 
were  it  to  produce  putrefaction  by  awkwardly 
carving  its  victuals  from  the  back?  It 
65 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

would  be  absurd  to  give  such  an  idea  a  mo- 
ment's consideration.  Its  refusal  is  dictated 
by  a  preordained  decree  which  it  is  bound 
to  obey. 

My  Scolia-grubs  would  die  of  starvation  if 
I  left  them  on  their  victim's  back.  I  there- 
fore restore  matters  as  they  were,  with  the 
Cetonia-larva  belly  uppermost  and  the  young 
Scolia  on  top.  I  might  utilize  the  subjects 
of  my  previous  experiments;  but,  as  I  have 
to  take  precautions  against  the  disturbance 
which  may  have  been  caused  by  the  test  al- 
ready undergone,  I  prefer  to  operate  on 
new  patients,  a  luxury  in  which  the  richness 
of  my  menagerie  allows  me  to  indulge.  I 
move  the  Scolia  from  its  position,  extract 
its  head  from  the  entrails  of  the  Cetonia- 
larva  and  leave  it  to  its  own  resources  on  its 
victim's  belly.  Betraying  every  symptom  of 
uneasiness,  the  grub  gropes,  hesitates,  casts 
about  and  does  not  insert  its  mandibles  any- 
where, though  it  is  now  the  ventral  surface 
which  it  is  exploring.  It  would  not  display 
greater  hesitation  if  placed  on  the  back  of 
the  larva.  I  repeat,  who  knows?  On  this 
side  it  might  perhaps  injure  the  nervous 
plexus,  which  is  even  more  essential  than  the 
dorsal  vessel.  The  inexperienced  grub  must 
not  drive  in  its  mandibles  at  random;  its  fu- 
66 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

ture  is  jeopardized  if  it  gives  a  single  ill- 
judged  bite.  If  it  gnaws  at  the  spot  where 
I  myself  operated  with  my  needle  wrought 
into  a  scalpel,  its  victuals  will  very  soon  turn 
putrid.  Once  more,  then,  we  witness  an 
absolute  refusal  to  perforate  the  skin  of 
the  victim  elsewhere  than  at  the  very  point 
where  the  egg  was  fixed. 

The  mother  selects  this  point,  which  is  un- 
doubtedly that  most  favourable  to  the  future 
prosperity  of  the  larva,  though  I  am  not 
able  clearly  to  discern  the  reasons  for  her 
choice;  she  fixes  the  egg  to  it;  and  the  place 
where  the  opening  is  to  be  made  is  hence- 
forth determined.  It  is  here  that  the  grub 
must  bite:  only  here,  never  elsewhere.  Its 
invincible  refusal  to  tackle  the  Cetonia  in  any 
other  part,  even  though  it  should  die  of 
starvation,  shews  us  how  rigorous  is  the  rule 
of  conduct  with  which  its  instinct  is  inspired. 

As  it  gropes  about,  the  grub  laid  on  the 
victim's  ventral  surface  sooner  or  later  re- 
discovers the  gaping  wound  from  which  I 
have  removed  it.  If  this  takes  too  long  for 
my  patience,  I  can  myself  guide  its  head  to 
the  place  with  the  point  of  a  paint-brush. 
The  grub  then  recognizes  the  hole  of  its  own 
making,  slips  its  neck  into  it  and  little  by 
little  dives  into  the  Cetonia's  belly,  so  that 
67 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  original  state  of  affairs  appears  to  be 
exactly  restored.  And  yet  its  successful 
rearing  is  henceforth  highly  problematical. 
It  is  possible  that  the  larva  will  prosper, 
complete  its  development  and  spin  its  co- 
coon; it  is  also  possible  —  and  the  case  is  not 
unusual  —  that  the  Cetonia-larva  will  soon 
turn  brown  and  putrid.  We  then  see  the 
Scolia  itself  turn  brown,  distended  as  it  is 
with  putrescent  foodstuffs,  and  then  cease  all 
movement,  without  attempting  to  withdraw 
from  the  sanies.  It  dies  on  the  spot,  poi- 
soned by  its  excessively  high  game. 

What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this  sudden 
corruption  of  the  victuals,  followed  by  the 
death  of  the  Scolia,  when  everything  ap- 
peared to  have  returned  to  its  normal  condi- 
tion? I  see  only  one  explanation.  Dis- 
turbed in  its  activities  and  diverted  from  its 
usual  courses  by  my  interference,  the  grub, 
when  replaced  on  the  wound  from  which  I 
extracted  it,  was  unable  to  rediscover  the 
lode  at  which  it  was  working  a  few  minutes 
earlier;  it  thrust  its  way  at  random  into  the 
victim's  entrails;  and  a  few  untimely  bites 
extinguished  the  last  sparks  of  vitality.  Its 
confusion  rendered  it  clumsy;  and  the  mis- 
take cost  it  its  life.  It  dies  poisoned  by  the 
68 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

rich  food  which,  if  consumed  according  to 
the  rules,  should  have  made  it  grow  plump 
and  lusty. 

I  was  anxious  to  observe  the  deadly  effects 
of  a  disturbed  meal  in  another  fashion. 
This  time  the  victim  itself  shall  disorder  the 
grub's  activities.  The  Cetonia-larva,  as 
served  up  to  the  young  Scolia  by  its  mother, 
is  profoundly  paralysed.  Its  inertia  is  com- 
plete and  so  striking  that  it  constitutes  one 
of  the  leading  features  of  this  narrative. 
But  we  will  not  anticipate.  For  the  mo- 
ment, the  thing  is  to  substitute  for  this  inert 
larva  a  similar  larva,  but  one  not  paralysed, 
one  very  much  alive.  To  ensure  that  it  shall 
not  double  up  and  crush  the  grub,  I  confine 
myself  to  reducing  it  to  helplessness,  leav- 
ing it  otherwise  just  as  I  extracted  it  from 
its  burrow.  I  must  also  be  careful  of  its 
legs  and  mandibles,  the  least  touch  of  which 
would  rip  open  the  nursling.  With  a  few 
turns  of  the  finest  wire  I  fix  it  to  a  little  slab 
of  cork,  with  its  belly  in  the  air.  Next, 
to  provide  the  grub  with  a  ready-made 
hole,  knowing  that  it  will  refuse  to  make  one 
for  itself,  I  contrive  a  slight  incision  in  the 
skin,  at  the  point  where  the  Scolia  lays  her 
egg.  I  now  place  the  grub  upon  the  larva, 
69 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

with  its  head  touching  the  bleeding  wound, 
and  lay  the  whole  on  a  bed  of  mould  in  a 
transparent  beaker  protected  by  a  pane  of 
glass. 

Unable  to  move,  to  wriggle,  to  scratch  with 
its  legs  or  snap  with  its  mandibles,  the  Ce- 
tonia-larva,  a  new  Prometheus  bound,  offers 
its  defenceless  flanks  to  the  little  Vulture 
destined  to  devour  its  entrails.  Without 
too  much  hesitation,  the  young  Scolia  settles 
down  to  the  wound  made  by  my  scalpel, 
which  to  the  grub  represents  the  wound 
whence  I  have  just  removed  it.  It  thrusts 
its  neck  into  the  belly  of  its  prey;  and  for  a 
couple  of  days  all  seems  to  go  well.  Then, 
lo  and  behold,  the  Cetonia  turns  putrid  and 
the  Scolia  dies,  poisoned  by  the  ptomaines 
of  the  decomposing  game!  As  before,  I 
see  it  turn  brown  and  die  on  the  spot,  still 
half  inside  the  toxic  corpse. 

The  fatal  issue  of  my  experiment  is  easily 
explained.  The  Cetonia-larva  is  alive  in 
every  sense.  True,  I  have,  by  means  of 
bonds,  suppressed  its  outward  movements, 
in  order  to  provide  the  nurseling  with  a  quiet 
meal,  devoid  of  danger;  but  it  was  not  in 
my  power  to  subdue  its  internal  movements, 
the  quivering  of  the  viscera  and  muscles  irri- 
tated by  its  forced  immobility  and  by  the 
70 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

Scolia's  bites.  The  victim  is  in  possession 
of  its  full  power  of  sensation;  and  it  ex- 
presses the  pain  experienced  as  best  it  may, 
by  contractions.  Embarrassed  by  these  tre- 
mors, these  twitches  of  suffering  flesh,  in- 
commoded at  every  mouthful,  the  grub  chews 
away  at  random  and  kills  the  larva  almost 
as  soon  as  it  has  started  on  it.  In  a  victim 
paralysed  by  the  regulation  sting,  the  condi- 
tions would  be  very  different.  There  are 
no  external  movements,  nor  any  internal 
movements  either,  when  the  mandibles  bite, 
because  the  victim  is  insensible.  The  grub, 
undisturbed  in  any  way,  is  then  able,  with 
an  unfaltering  tooth,  to  pursue  its  scientific 
method  of  eating. 

These  marvellous  results  interested  me  too 
much  not  to  inspire  me  with  fresh  devices 
when  I  pursued  my  investigations.  Earlier 
enquiries  had  taught  me  that  the  larvae  of 
the  Digger-wasps  are  fairly  indifferent  to 
the  nature  of  the  game,  though  the  mother 
always  supplies  them  with  the  same  diet.  I 
had  succeeded  in  rearing  them  on  a  great 
variety  of  prey,  without  paying  regard  to 
their  normal  fare.  I  shall  return  to  this 
subject  later,  when  I  hope  to  demonstrate 
its  great  philosophical  significance.  Let  us 
profit  by  these  data  and  try  to  discover  what 
71 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

happens  when  we  give  the  Scolia  food  which 
is  not  properly  its  own. 

I  select  from  my  heap  of  garden-mould, 
that  inexhaustible  mine,  two  larvae  of  the 
Rhinoceros  Beetle,  Oryctes  nasicornis,  about 
one-third  full-grown,  so  that  their  size  may 
not  be  out  of  proportion  to  the  Scolia's.  It 
is  in  fact  almost  identical  with  the  size  of 
the  Cetonia.  I  paralyse  one  of  them  by 
giving  an  injection  of  ammonia  in  the  nerve- 
centres.  I  make  a  fine  incision  in  its  belly 
and  I  place  the  Scolia  on  the  opening.  The 
dish  pleases  my  charge;  and  it  would  be 
strange  indeed  if  this  were  not  so,  consider- 
ing that  another  Scolia-grub,  the  larva  of 
the  Garden  Scolia,  feeds  on  the  Oryctes. 
The  dish  suits  it,  for  before  long  it  has  bur- 
rowed half-way  into  the  succulent  paunch. 
This  time  all  goes  well.  Will  the  rearing 
be  successful?  Not  a  bit  of  it!  On  the 
third  day,  the  Oryctes  decomposes  and  the 
Scolia  dies.  Which  shall  we  hold  respon- 
sible for  the  failure,  myself  or  the  grub? 
Myself  who,  perhaps  too  unskilfully,  admin- 
istered the  injection  of  ammonia,  or  the  grub 
which,  a  novice  at  dissecting  a  prey  dif- 
fering from  its  own,  did  not  know  how  to 
practise  its  craft  upon  a  changed  victim  and 
began  to  bite  before  the  proper  time? 
72 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

In  my  uncertainty,  I  try  again.  This  time 
I  shall  not  interfere,  so  that  my  clumsiness 
cannot  be  to  blame.  As  I  described  when 
speaking  of  the  Cetonia-larva,  the  Oryctes- 
larva  now  lies  bound,  quite  alive,  on  a  strip 
of  cork.  As  usual,  I  make  a  small  opening 
in  the  belly,  to  entice  the  grub  by  means 
of  a  bleeding  wound  and  facilitate  its  ac- 
cess. I  obtain  the  same  negative  result.  In 
a  little  while,  the  Oryctes  is  a  noisome  mass 
on  which  the  nursling  lies  poisoned.  The 
failure  was  foreseen:  to  the  difficulties  pre- 
sented by  a  prey  unknown  to  my  charge  was 
added  the  commotion  caused  by  the  wrig- 
gling of  an  unparalysed  animal. 

We  will  try  once  more,  this  time  with  a 
victim  paralysed  not  by  me,  an  unskilled 
operator,  but  by  an  adept  whose  ability  ranks 
so  high  that  it  is  beyond  discussion.  Chance 
favours  me  to  perfection:  yesterday,  in  a 
warm  sheltered  corner,  at  the  foot  of  a  sandy 
bank,  I  discovered  three  cells  of  the  Langue- 
docian  Sphex,  each  with  its  Ephippiger  and 
the  recently  laid  egg.  This  is  the  game  I 
want,  a  corpulent  prey,  of  a  size  suited  to 
the  Scolia  and,  what  is  more,  in  splendid 
condition,  artistically  paralysed  according  to 
rule  by  a  master  among  masters. 

As  usual,  I  install  my  three  Ephippigers 
73 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

in  a  glass  jar,  on  a  bed  of  mould;  I  remove 
the  egg  of  the  Sphex  and  on  each  victim,  after 
slightly  incising  the  skin  of  the  belly,  I  place 
a  young  Scolia-grub.  For  three  or  four  days 
my  charges  feed  upon  this  game,  so  novel 
to  them,  without  any  sign  of  repugnance  or 
hesitation.  By  the  fluctuations  of  the  di- 
gestive canal  I  perceive  that  the  work  of 
nutrition  is  proceeding  as  it  should;  things 
are  happening  just  as  if  the  dish  were  a 
Cetonia-larva.  The  change  of  diet,  com- 
plete though  it  is,  has  in  no  way  affected  the 
appetite  of  the  Scolia-grubs.  But  this  pros- 
sperous  condition  does  not  last  long.  About 
the  fourth  day,  a  little  sooner  in  one  case,  a 
little  later  in  another,  the  three  Ephippigers 
become  putrid  and  the  Scoliae  die  at  the  same 
time. 

This  result  is  eloquent.  Had  I  left  the 
egg  of  the  Sphex  to  hatch,  the  larva  coming 
out  of  it  would  have  fed  upon  the  Ephip- 
piger;  and  for  the  hundredth  time  I  should 
have  witnessed  an  incomprehensible  specta- 
cle, that  of  an  animal  which,  devoured  piece- 
meal for  nearly  a  fortnight,  grows  thin  and 
empty,  shrivels  up  and  yet  retains  to  the 
very  end  the  freshness  peculiar  to  living 
flesh.  Substitute  for  this  Sphex-larva  a  Sco- 
74 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

lia-larva  of  almost  the  same  size;  let  the 
dish  be  the  same  though  the  guest  is  differ- 
ent; and  healthy  live  flesh  is  promptly  re- 
placed by  pestilent  rotten  flesh.  That  which 
under  the  mandibles  of  the  Sphex  would  for 
a  long  while  have  remained  wholesome 
food  promptly  becomes  a  poisonous  liques- 
cence  under  the  mandibles  of  the  Scolia. 

It  is  impossible  to  explain  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  victuals  until  finally  consumed  by 
supposing  that  the  venom  injected  by  the 
Wasp  when  she  delivers  her  paralysing  stings 
possesses  antiseptic  properties.  The  three 
Ephippigers  were  operated  on  by  the  Sphex. 
Able  to  keep  fresh  under  the  mandibles  of 
the  Sphex-larvae,  why  did  they  promptly  go 
bad  under  the  mandibles  of  the  Scolia-larvae  ? 
Any  idea  of  an  antiseptic  must  needs  be  re- 
jected: a  liquid  preservative  which  would 
act  in  the  first  case  could  not  fail  to  act  in 
the  second,  as  its  virtues  would  not  depend 
on  the  teeth  of  the  consumer. 

Those  of  you  who  are  versed  in  the  know- 
ledge attaching  to  this  problem,  investigate, 
I  beg  you,  search,  sift,  see  if  you  can  discover 
the  reason  why  the  victuals  keep  fresh  when 
consumed  by  a  Sphex,  whereas  they  prompt- 
ly become  putrid  when  consumed  by  a 
75 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Scolia.  For  me,  I  see  only  one  reason;  and 
I  very  much  doubt  whether  any  one  can  sug- 
gest another. 

Both  larvae  practise  a  special  art  of  eat- 
ing, which  is  determined  by  the  nature  of 
the  game.  The  Sphex,  when  sitting  down  to 
an  Ephippiger,  the  food  that  has  fallen  to 
its  lot,  knows  thoroughly  how  to  consume 
it  and  how  to  preserve,  to  the  very  end,  the 
glimmer  of  life  which  keeps  it  fresh;  but,  if 
it  has  to  browse  upon  a  Cetonia-grub,  whose 
different  structure  would  confuse  its  talents 
as  a  dissector,  it  would  soon  have  nothing 
before  it  but  a  heap  of  putrescence.  The 
Scolia,  in  its  turn,  is  familiar  with  the  method 
of  eating  the  Cetonia-grub,  its  invariable  por- 
tion; but  it  does  not  understand  the  art  of 
eating  the  Ephippiger,  though  the  dish  is 
to  its  taste.  Unable  to  dissect  this  unknown 
species  of  game,  its  mandibles  slash  away 
at  random,  killing  the  creature  outright  as 
soon  as  they  take  their  first  bites  of  the 
deeper  tissues  of  the  victim.  That  is  the 
whole  secret. 

One  more  word,  on  which  I  shall  enlarge 
in  another  chapter.  I  observe  that  the  Sco- 
liae  to  which  I  give  Ephippigers  paralysed 
by  the  Sphex  keep  in  excellent  condition,  de- 
spite the  change  of  diet,  so  long  as  the  pro- 
76 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

visions  retain  their  freshness.  They  lan- 
guish when  the  game  goes  high;  and  they 
die  when  putridity  supervenes.  Their  death, 
therefore,  is  due  not  to  an  unaccustomed 
diet,  but  to  poisoning  by  one  or  other  of 
those  terrible  toxins  which  are  engendered 
by  animal  corruption  and  which  chemistry 
calls  by  the  name  of  ptomaines.  Therefore, 
notwithstanding  the  fatal  outcome  of  my 
three  attempts,  I  remain  persuaded  that  the 
unfamiliar  method  of  rearing  would  have 
been  perfectly  successful  had  the  Ephippigers 
not  gone  bad,  that  is,  if  the  Scoliae  had  known 
how  to  eat  them  according  to  the  rules. 

What  a  delicate  and  dangerous  thing  is  the 
art  of  eating  in  these  carnivorous  larvae  sup- 
plied with  a  single  victim,  which  they  have 
to  spend  a  fortnight  in  consuming,  on  the 
express  condition  of  not  killing  it  until  the 
very  end!  Could  our  physiological  science, 
of  which,  with  good  reason,  we  are  so  proud, 
describe,  without  blundering,  the  method  to 
be  followed  in  the  successive  mouthfuls? 
How  has  a  miserable  grub  learnt  what  our 
knowledge  cannot  tell  us?  By  habit,  the 
Darwinians  will  reply,  who  see  in  instinct  an 
acquired  habit. 

Before  deciding  this  serious  matter,  I  will 
ask  you  to  reflect  that  the  first  Wasp,  of 
77 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

whatever  kind,  that  thought  of  feed- 
ing her  progeny  on  a  Cetonia-grub  or  on 
any  other  large  piece  of  game  demanding 
long  preservation  could  necessarily  have  left 
no  descendants  unless  the  art  of  consuming 
food  without  causing  putrescence  had  been 
practised,  with  all  its  scrupulous  caution, 
from  the  first  generation  onwards.  Having 
as  yet  learnt  nothing  by  habit  or  by  atavistic 
transmission,  since  it  was  making  a  first  be- 
ginning, the  nurseling  would  bite  into  its 
provender  at  random.  It  would  be  starv- 
ing, it  would  have  no  respect  for  its  prey. 
It  would  carve  its  joint  at  random;  and  we 
have  just  seen  the  fatal  consequence  of  an 
ill-directed  bite.  It  would  perish  —  I  have 
just  proved  this  in  the  most  positive  man- 
ner—  it  would  perish,  poisoned  by  its  vic- 
tim, already  dead  and  putrid. 

To  prosper,  it  would  have,  although  a 
novice,  to  know  what  was  permitted  and 
what  forbidden  in  ransacking  the  creature's 
entrails;  nor  would  it  be  enough  for  the 
larva  to  be  approximately  in  possession  of 
this  difficult  secret:  it  would  be  indispensable 
that  it  should  possess  the  secret  completely, 
for  a  single  bite,  if  delivered  before  the  right 
moment,  would  inevitably  involve  its  own 
demise.  The  Scolias  of  my  experiments  are 
78 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

not  novices,  far  from  it:  they  are  the  de- 
scendants of  carvers  that  have  practised  their 
art  since  Scoliae  first  came  into  the  world; 
nevertheless  they  all  perish  from  the  decom- 
position of  the  rations  supplied,  when  I  try  to 
feed  them  on  Ephippigers  paralysed  by  the 
Sphex.  Very  expert  in  the  method  of  at- 
tacking the  Cetonia,  they  do  not  know  how 
to  set  about  the  business  of  discreetly  con- 
suming a  species  of  game  new  to  them.  All 
that  escapes  them  is  a  few  details,  for  the 
trade  of  an  ogre  fed  on  live  flesh  is  familiar 
to  them  in  its  general  features;  and  these 
unheeded  details  are  enough  to  turn  their 
food  into  poison.  What,  then,  happened  in 
the  beginning,  when  the  larva  bit  for  the  first 
time  into  a  luscious  victim?  The  inexpe- 
rienced creature  perished;  of  that  there  is 
not  a  shadow  of  doubt,  unless  we  admit  an 
absurdity  and  imagine  the  larva  of  antiquity 
feeding  upon  those  terrible  ptomaines  which 
so  swiftly  kill  its  descendants  to-day. 

Nothing  will  ever  make  me  admit  and  no 
unprejudiced  mind  can  admit  that  what  was 
once  food  has  become  a  horrible  poison. 
What  the  larva  of  antiquity  ate  was  live 
flesh  and  not  putrescence.  Nor  can  it  be 
admitted  that  the  chances  of  fortune  can 
have  led  at  the  first  trial  to  success  in  a 
79 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

system  of  nourishment  so  full  of  pit-falls: 
fortuitous  results  are  preposterous  amid  so 
many  complications.  Either  the  feeding  is 
strictly  methodical  at  the  beginning,  in  con- 
formity with  the  organic  exigencies  of  the 
prey  devoured,  and  the  Wasp  established 
her  race;  or  else  it  was  hesitating,  without 
determined  rules,  and  the  Wasp  left  no  suc- 
cessor. In  the  first  case  we  behold  innate 
instinct;  in  the  second  acquired  habit. 

A  strange  acquisition,  truly !  An  acquisi- 
tion presumed  to  be  made  by  an  impossible 
creature;  an  acquisition  supposed  to  develop 
in  no  less  impossible  successors!  Though 
the  snow-ball,  slowly  rolling,  at  last  becomes 
an  enormous  sphere,  it  is  still  necessary  that 
the  starting-point  shall  not  have  been  nil. 
The  big  ball  implies  the  little  ball,  as  small 
as  you  please.  Now,  in  harking  back  to  the 
origin  of  these  acquired  habits,  if  I  interro- 
gate the  possibilities  I  obtain  zero  as  the 
only  answer.  If  the  animal  does  not  know 
its  trade  thoroughly,  if  it  has  to  acquire 
something,  all  the  more  if  it  has  to  acquire 
everything,  it  perishes:  that  is  inevitable; 
without  the  little  snow-ball  the  big  snow- 
ball cannot  be  rolled.  If  it  has  nothing  to 
acquire,  if  it  knows  all  that  it  needs  to  know, 
it  flourishes  and  leaves  descendants  behind 
80 


A  Dangerous  Diet 

it.  But  then  it  possesses  innate  instinct,  the 
instinct  which  learns  nothing  and  forgets 
nothing,  the  instinct  which  is  steadfast 
throughout  time. 

The  building  up  of  theories  has  never  ap- 
pealed to  me:  I  suspect  them  one  and  all. 
To  argue  nebulously  upon  dubious  premises 
likes  me  no  better.  I  observe,  I  experiment 
and  I  let  the  facts  speak  for  themselves. 
We  have  just  heard  these  facts.  Let  each 
now  decide  for  himself  whether  instinct  is 
an  innate  faculty  or  an  acquired  habit. 


81 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    CETONIA-LARVA 

'  I  VHE  Scolia's  feeding-period  lasts,  on  the 
•*•  average,  for  a  dozen  days  or  so.  By 
then  the  victuals  are  no  more  than  a  crum- 
pled bag,  a  skin  emptied  of  the  last  scrap  of 
nutriment.  A  little  earlier,  the  russet-yellow 
tint  announces  the  extinction  of  the  last  spark 
of  life  in  the  creature  that  is  being  devoured. 
The  empty  skin  is  pushed  back  to  make 
space;  the  dining-room,  a  shapeless  cavity 
with  crumbling  walls,  is  tidied  up  a  little; 
and  the  Scolia-grub  sets  to  work  on  its  co- 
coon without  further  delay. 

The  first  courses  form  a  general  scaffold- 
ing, which  finds  a  support  here  and  there  on 
the  earthen  walls,  and  consist  of  a  rough, 
blood-red  fabric.  When  the  larva  is  merely 
laid,  as  required  by  my  investigations,  in  a 
hollow  made  with  the  finger-tip  in  the  bed  of 
mould,  it  is  not  able  to  spin  its  cocoon,  for 
want  of  a  ceiling  to  which  to  fasten  the  upper 
threads  of  its  network.  To  weave  its  co- 
coon, every  spinning  larva  is  compelled  to 
82 


The  Cetonia-larva 

isolate  itself  in  a  hammock  slung  in  an  open- 
work enclosure,  which  enables  it  to  distribute 
its  thread  uniformly  in  all  directions.  If 
there  be  no  ceiling,  the  upper  part  of  the 
cocoon  cannot  be  fashioned,  because  the 
worker  lacks  the  necessary  points  of  sup- 
port. Under  these  conditions  my  Scolia- 
grubs  contrive  at  most  to  upholster  their 
little  pit  with  a  thick  down  of  reddish  silk. 
Discouraged  by  futile  endeavours,  some  of 
them  die.  It  is  as  if  they  had  been  killed 
by  the  silk  which  they  omit  to  disgorge  be- 
cause they  are  unable  to  make  the  right  use 
of  it.  This,  if  we  were  not  watchful,  would 
be  a  very  frequent  cause  of  failure  in  our 
attempts  at  artificial  rearing.  But,  once  the 
danger  has  been  perceived,  the  remedy  is 
simple.  I  make  a  ceiling  over  the  cavity  by 
laying  a  short  strip  of  paper  above  it.  If  I 
want  to  see  how  matters  are  progressing,  I 
bend  the  strip  into  a  semicircle,  into  a  half- 
cylinder  with  open  ends.  Those  who  wish 
to  play  the  breeder  for  themselves  will  be 
able  to  profit  by  these  little  practical  details. 
In  twenty-four  hours  the  cocoon  is  fin- 
ished; at  least,  it  no  longer  allows  us  to  see 
the  grub,  which  is  doubtless  making  the  walls 
of  its  dwelling  still  thicker.  At  first  the  co- 
coon is  a  vivid  red;  later  it  changes  to  a 
83 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

light  chestnut-brown.  Its  form  is  that  of 
an  ellipsoid,  with  a  major  axis  26  millimetres 
in  length,  while  the  minor  axis  measures  1 1 
millimetres.1  These  dimensions,  which  inci- 
dentally are  inclined  to  vary  slightly,  are 
those  of  the  female  cocoons.  In  the  other 
sex  they  are  smaller  and  may  measure  as 
little  as  17  millimetres  in  length  by  7  milli- 
metres in  width.2. 

The  two  ends  of  the  ellipsoid  have  the 
same  form,  so  much  so  that  it  is  only  thanks 
to  an  individual  peculiarity,  independent  of 
the  shape,  that  we  can  tell  the  cephalic  from 
the  anal  extremity.  The  cephalic  pole  is 
flexible  and  yields  to  the  pressure  of  my 
tweezers;  the  anal  pole  is  hard  and  unyield- 
ing. The  wrapper  is  double,  as  in  the  co- 
coons of  the  Sphex.3  The  outer  envelope, 
consisting  of  pure  silk,  is  thin,  flexible  and 
offers  little  resistance.  It  is  closely  super- 
imposed upon  the  inner  envelope  and  is  easily 
separated  from  it  everywhere,  except  at  the 
anal  end,  where  it  adheres  to  the  second 
envelope.  The  adhesion  of  the  two  wrap- 
pers at  one  end  and  the  non-adhesion  at  the 
other  are  the  cause  of  the  differences  which 

1 1.014  x  429  inch. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  .663  *  .273  inch. —  Translator's  Note. 

3  Cf.     The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  iv.  to  x.  et  passim.— 
Translator's  Note. 

84 


The  Cetonia-larva 

the  tweezers  reveal  when  pinching  the  two 
ends  of  the  cocoon. 

The  inner  envelope  is  firm,  elastic,  rigid 
and,  to  a  certain  point,  brittle.  .  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  look  upon  it  as  consisting  of  a 
silken  tissue  which  the  larva,  towards  the 
end  of  its  task,  has  steeped  thoroughly  in  a 
sort  of  varnish  prepared  not  by  the  silk- 
glands  but  by  the  stomach.  The  cocoons 
of  the  Sphex  have  already  shown  us  a  simi- 
lar varnish.  This  product  of  the  chylific 
ventricle  is  chestnut-brown.  It  is  this  which, 
saturating  the  thickness  of  the  tissue,  ef- 
faces the  bright  red  of  the  beginning  and 
replaces  it  by  a  brown  tint.  It  is  this  again 
which,  disgorged  more  profusely  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  cocoon,  glues  the  two  wrappers 
together  at  that  point. 

The  perfect  insect  is  hatched  at  the  begin- 
ning of  July.  The  emergence  takes  place 
without  any  violent  effraction,  without  any 
ragged  rents.  A  clean,  circular  fissure  ap- 
pears at  some  distance  from  the  top;  and  the 
cephalic  end  is  detached  all  of  a  piece,  as  a 
loose  lid  might  be.  It  is  as  though  the 
recluse  had  only  to  raise  a  cover  by  butting 
it  with  her  head,  so  exact  is  the  line  of  divi- 
sion, at  least  as  regards  the  inner  envelope, 
the  stronger  and  more  important  of  the  two. 
8s 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

As  for  the  outer  wrapper,  its  lack  of  resist- 
ance enables  it  to  yield  without  difficulty 
when  the  other  gives  way. 

I  cannot  quite  make  out  by  what  knack  the 
Wasp  contrives  to  detach  the  cap  of  the  inner 
shell  with  such  accuracy.  Is  it  the  art  prac- 
tised by  the  tailor  when  cutting  his  stuff,  with 
mandibles  taking  the  place  of  scissors?  I 
hardly  venture  to  admit  as  much.:  the  tissue 
is  so  tough  and  the  circle  of  division  so  pre- 
cise. The  mandibles  are  not  sharp  enough 
to  cut  without  leaving  a  ragged  edge;  and 
then  what  geometrical  certainty  they  would 
need  for  an  operation  so  perfect  that  it  might 
well  have  been  performed  with  the  com- 
passes! 

I  suspect  therefore  that  the  Scolia  first 
fashions  the  outer  sac  in  accordance  with  the 
usual  method,  that  is,  by  distributing  the  silk 
uniformly,  without  any  special  preparation 
of  one  part  of  the  wall  more  than  of  an- 
other, and  that  it  afterwards  changes  its 
method  of  weaving  in  order  to  attend  to 
the  main  work,  the  inner  shell.  In  this  it 
apparently  imitates  the  Bembex,1  which 
weaves  a  sort  of  eel-trap,  whose  ample  mesh 
allows  it  to  gather  grains  of  sand  outside 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  xiv.  to  xvi. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 


The  Cetonia-larva 

and  encrust  them  one  by  one  in  the  silky  net- 
work, and  completes  the  performance  with  a 
cap  fitting  the  entrance  to  the  trap.  This 
provides  a  circular  line  of  least  resistance, 
?ilong  which  the  casket  breaks  open  after- 
wards. If  the  Scolia  really  works  in  the 
same  manner,  everything  is  explained:  the 
eel-trap,  while  still  open,  enables  it  to  soak 
with  varnish  both  the  inside  and  the  outside 
of  the  inner  shell,  which  has  to  acquire  the 
consistency  of  parchment;  lastly,  the  cap 
which  completes  and  closes  the  structure 
leaves  for  the  future  a  circular  line  capable 
of  splitting  easily  and  neatly. 

This  is  enough  on  the  subject  of  the  Sco- 
lia-grub.  Let  us  go  back  to  its  provender, 
of  whose  remarkable  structure  we  as  yet 
know  nothing.  In  order  that  it  may  be  con- 
sumed with  the  delicate  anatomical  discre- 
tion imposed  by  the  necessity  of  having  fresh 
food  to  the  last,  the  Cetonia-grub  must  be 
plunged  into  a  state  of  absolute  immobility: 
any  twitchings  on  its  part  —  as  the  experi- 
ments which  I  have  undertaken  go  to  prove 
—  would  discourage  our  nibbling  larva  and 
impede  the  work  of  carving,  which  has  to 
be  effected  with  so  much  circumspection.  It 
is  not  enough  for  the  victim  to  be  unable  to 
move  from  place  to  place  beneath  the  soil: 
87 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

in  addition  to  this,  the  contractible  power  in 
its  sturdy  muscular  organism  must  be  sup- 
pressed. 

In  its  normal  state,  this  larva,  at  the  very 
least  disturbance,  curls  itself  up,  almost  as 
the  Hedgehog  does;  and  the  two  halves  of 
the  ventral  surface  are  laid  one  against  the 
other.  You  are  quite  surprised  at  the 
strength  which  the  creature  displays  in  keep- 
ing itself  thus  contracted.  If  you  try  to  un- 
roll it,  your  fingers  encounter  a  resistance  far 
greater  than  the  size  of  the  animal  would 
have  caused  you  to  suspect.  To  overcome 
the  resistance  of  this  sort  of  spring  coiled 
upon  itself,  you  have  to  force  it,  so  much 
so  that  you  are  afraid,  if  you  persist,  of  see- 
ing the  indomitable  spiral  suddenly  burst 
and  shoot  forth  its  entrails. 

A  similar  muscular  energy  is  found  in  the 
larvae  of  the  Oryctes,1  the  Anoxia,2  the  Cock- 
chafer. Weighed  down  by  a  heavy  belly 
and  living  underground,  where  they  feed 
either  on  leaf-mould  or  on  roots,  these  larvae 
all  possess  the  vigorous  constitution  needed 
to  drag  their  corpulence  through  a  resisting 
medium.  All  of  them  also  roll  themselves 

1  Also  known   as  the  Rhinoceros  Beetle. —  Translator's 
Note. 

2  A  Beetle  akin  to  the  Cockchafer. —  Translator's  Note. 


The  Cetonia-larva 

into  a  hook  which  is  not  straightened  without 
an  effort. 

Now  what  would  become  of  the  egg  and 
the  new-born  grub  of  the  Scoliae,  fixed  under 
the  belly,  at  the  centre  of  the  Cetonia's  spiral, 
or  inside  the  hook  of  the  Oryctes  or  the 
Anoxia?  They  would  be  crushed  between 
the  jaws  of  the  living  vice.  It  is  essential 
that  the  arc  should  slacken  and  the  hook 
unbend,  without  the  least  possibility  of  their 
returning  to  a  state  of  tension.  Indeed,  the 
well-being  of  the  Scoliae  demands  something 
more :  those  powerful  bodies  must  not  retain 
even  the  power  to  quiver,  lest  they  derange 
a  method  of  feeding  which  has  to  be  con- 
ducted with  the  greatest  caution. 

The  Cetonia-grub  to  which  the  Two- 
banded  Scolia's  egg  is  fastened  fulfils  the 
required  conditions  admirably.  It  is  lying 
on  its  back,  in  the  midst  of  the  mould,  with 
its  belly  fully  extended.  Long  accustomed 
though  I  be  to  this  spectacle  of  victims  para- 
lysed by  the  sting  of  the  Hunting  Wasp,  I 
cannot  suppress  my  astonishment  at  the  pro- 
found immobility  of  the  prey  before  my  eyes. 
In  the  other  victims  with  flexible  skins,  Cater- 
pillars, Crickets,  Mantes,  Ephippigers,  I  per- 
ceived at  least  some  pulsations  of  the  abdo- 
men, a  few  feeble  contortions  under  the  stim- 
89 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

ulus  of  a  needle.  There  is  nothing  of  the 
sort  here,  nothing  but  absolute  inertia,  except 
in  the  head,  where  I  see,  from  time  to  time, 
the  mouth-parts  open  and  close,  the  palpi 
give  a  tremor,  the  short  antennae  sway  to 
and  fro.  A  prick  with  the  point  of  a  needle 
causes  no  contraction,  no  matter  what  the 
spot  pricked.  Though  I  stab  it  through 
and  through,  the  creature  does  not  stir,  be 
it  ever  so  little.  A  corpse  is  not  more  inert. 
Never,  since  my  remotest  investigations, 
have  I  witnessed  so  profound  a  paralysis. 
I  have  seen  many  wonders  due  to  the  surgi- 
cal talent  of  the  Wasp;  but  to-day's  marvel 
surpasses  them  all. 

I  am  doubly  surprised  when  I  consider 
the  unfavourable  conditions  under  which  the 
Scolia  operates.  The  other  paralysers  work 
in  the  open  air,  in  the  full  light  of  day. 
There  is  nothing  to  hinder  them.  They  en- 
joy full  liberty  of  action  in  seizing  the  prey, 
holding  it  in  position  and  sacrificing  it;  they 
are  able  to  see  the  victim  and  to  parry  its 
means  of  defence,  to  avoid  its  spears,  its 
pincers.  The  spot  or  spots  to  be  attained 
are  within  their  reach;  they  drive  the  dag- 
ger in  without  let  or  hindrance. 

What  difficulties,  on  the  other  hand,  await 
the  Scolia !  She  hunts  underground,  in  the 
90 


The  Cetonia-larva 

blackest  darkness.  Her  movements  are  la- 
boured and  uncertain,  owing  to  the  mould, 
which  is  continually  giving  way  all  round  her; 
she  cannot  keep  her  eyes  on  the  terrible  man- 
dibles, which  are  capable  of  cutting  her  body 
in  two  with  a  single  bite.  Moreover,  the 
Cetonia-grub,  perceiving  that  the  enemy  is 
approaching,  assumes  it's  defensive  posture, 
rolls  itself  up  and  makes  a  shield  for  its  only 
vulnerable  part,  the  ventral  surface,  with  its 
convex  back.  No,  it  cannot  be  an  easy  oper- 
ation to  subdue  the  powerful  larva  in  its 
underground  retreat  and  to  stab  with  the 
precision  which  immediate  paralysis  requires. 

We  wish  that  we  might  witness  the  strug- 
gle between  the  two  adversaries  and  see  at 
first  hand  what  happens,  but  we  cannot  hope 
to  succeed.  It  all  takes  place  in  the  mys- 
terious darkness  of  the  soil;  in  broad  day- 
light, the  attack  would  not  be  delivered,  for 
the  victim  must  remain  where  it  is  and  then 
and  there  receive  the  egg,  which  is  unable  to 
thrive  and  develop  except  under  the  warm 
cover  of  vegetable  mould.  If  direct  obser- 
vation is  impracticable,  we  can  at  least  fore- 
see the  main  outlines  of  the  drama  by  allow- 
ing ourselves  to  be  guided  by  the  warlike 
manoeuvres  of  other  burrowers. 

I  picture  things  thus:  digging  and  rum- 
91 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

maging  through  the  heap  of  mould,  guided 
perhaps  by  that  singular  sensibility  of  the 
antennae  which  enables  the  Hairy  Am- 
mophila  to  discover  the  Grey  Worm  1  un- 
derground, the  Scolia  ends  by  finding  a  Ce- 
tonia-larva,  a  good  plump  one,  in  the  pink 
of  condition,  having  reached  its  full  growth, 
just  what  the  grub  which  is  to  feed  on  it 
requires.  Forthwith,  the  assaulted  victim, 
contracting  desperately,  rolls  itself  into  a 
ball.  The  other  seizes  it  by  the  skin  of  the 
neck.  To  unroll  it  is  impossible  to  the  in- 
sect, for  I  myself  have  some  trouble  in  doing 
so.  One  single  point  is  accessible  to  the 
sting:  the  under  part  of  the  head,  or  rather 
of  the  first  segments,  which  are  placed  out- 
side the  coil,  so  that  the  grub's  hard  cra- 
nium makes  a  rampart  for  the  hinder  ex- 
tremity, which  is  less  well  defended.  Here 
the  Wasp's  sting  enters  and  here  only  can 
it  enter,  within  a  narrowly  circumscribed 
area.  One  stab  only  of  the  lancet  is  given 
at  this  point,  one  only  because  there  is  no 
room  for  more;  and  this  is  enough:  the 
larva  is  absolutely  paralysed. 

The  nervous  functions  are  abolished  in- 
stantly; the  muscular  contractions  cease;  and 


caterpillar  of  the  Turnip  Moth.     Cf.  The  Hunt- 
ing Wasps:  chaps,  xviii.  to  xx.  —  Translator's  Note. 
92 


The  Cetonia-larva 

the  animal  uncoils  like  a  broken  spring. 
Henceforth  motionless,  it  lies  on  its  back, 
its  ventral  surface  fully  exposed  from  end 
to  end.  On  the  median  line  of  this  surface, 
towards  the  rear,  near  the  brown  patch  due 
to  the  alimentary  broth  contained  in  the  in- 
testine, the  Scolia  lays  her  egg  and  without 
more  ado,  leaves  everything  lying  on  the 
actual  spot  where  the  murder  was  committed, 
in  order  to  go  in  search  of  another  victim. 

This  is  how  the  deed  must  be  done:  the 
results  prove  it  emphatically.  But  then  the 
Cetonia-grub  must  possess  a  very  exceptional 
structure  in  its  nervous  organization.  The 
larva's  violent  contraction  leaves  but  a  single 
point  of  attack  open  to  the  sting,  the  under 
part  of  the  neck,  which  is  doubtless  unco- 
vered when  the  victim  tries  to  defend  itself 
with  its  mandibles ;  and  yet  a  stab  in  this  one 
point  produces  the  most  thorough  paralysis 
that  I  have  ever  seen.  It  is  the  general 
rule  that  larvae  possess  a  centre  of  innerva- 
tion  for  each  segment.  This  is  so  in  part- 
icular with  the  Grey  Worm,  the  sacrificial 
victim  of  the  Hairy  Ammophila.  The  Wasp 
is  acquainted  with  this  anatomical  secret: 
she  stabs  the  caterpillar  again  and  again, 
from  end  to  end,  segment  by  segment,  gan- 
glion by  ganglion.  With  such  an  organiza- 

93 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

tion  the  Cetonia-grub,  unconquerably  coiled 
upon  itself,  would  defy  the  paralyser's  sur- 
gical skill. 

If  the  first  ganglion  were  wounded,  the 
others  would  remain  uninjured;  and  the  pow- 
erbul  body,  actuated  by  these  last,  would 
lose  none  of  its  powers  of  contraction.  Woe 
then  to  the  egg,  to  the  young  grub  held  fast 
in  its  embrace!  And  how  insurmountable 
would  be  the  difficulties  if  the  Scolia,  work- 
ing in  the  profound  darkness  amid  the  crum- 
bling soil  and  confronted  by  a  terrible  pair 
of  mandibles,  had  to  stab  each  segment  in 
turn  with  her  sting,  with  the  certainty  of 
method  displayed  by  the  Ammophila !  The 
delicate  operation  is  possible  in  the  open  air, 
where  nothing  stands  in  the  way,  in  broad 
daylight,  where  the  sight  guides  the  scalpel, 
and  with  a  patient  which  can  always  be  re- 
leased if  it  becomes  dangerous.  But  in  the 
dark,  underground,  amidst  the  ruins  of  a 
ceiling  which  crumbles  in  consequence  of  the 
conflict  and  at  close  quarters  with  an  op- 
ponent greatly  her  superior  in  strength,  how 
is  the  Scolia  to  guide  her  sting  with  the 
accuracy  that  is  essential  if  the  stabs  are  to 
be  repeated? 

So  profound  a  paralysis;  the  difficulty  of 
vivisection  underground;  the  desperate  coil- 

94 


The  Cetonia-larva 

ing  of  the  victim:  all  these  things  tell  me 
that  the  Cetonia-grub,  as  regards  its  nervous 
system,  must  possess  a  structure  peculiar  to 
itself.  The  whole  of  the  ganglia  must  be 
concentrated  in  a  limited  area  in  the  first 
segments,  almost  under  the  neck.  I  see  this 
as  clearly  as  though  it  had  been  revealed  to 
me  by  a  post-mortem  dissection. 

Never  was  anatomical  forecast  more  fully 
confirmed  by  direct  examination.  After 
forty-eight  hours  in  benzine,  which  dissolves 
the  fat  and  renders  the  nervous  system  more 
plainly  visible,  the  Cetonia-grub  is  subjected 
to  dissection.  Those  of  my  readers  who  are 
familiar  with  these  investigations  will  un- 
derstand my  delight.  What  a  clever  school 
is  the  Scolia's !  It  is  just  as  I  thought !  Ad- 
mirable! The  thoracic  and  abdominal  gan- 
glia are  gathered  into  a  single  nervous  mass, 
situated  within  the  quadrilateral  bounded  by 
the  four  hinder  legs,  which  legs  are  very  near 
the  head.  It  is  a  tiny,  dull-white  cylinder, 
about  three  millimetres  long  by  half  a  milli- 
metre wide.1  This  is  the  organ  which  the 
Scolia's  sting  must  attack  in  order  to  secure 
the  paralysis  of  the  whole  body,  excepting 
the  head,  which  is  provided  with  special 
ganglia.  From  it  run  numbers  of  filaments 

*.  117*. 019  inch. — Translator's  Note. 
95 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

which  actuate  the  feet  and  the  powerful  mus- 
cular layer  which  is  the  creature's  essential 
motor  organ.  When  examined  merely 
through  the  pocket-lens,  this  cylinder  appears 
to  be  slightly  furrowed  transversely,  a  proof 
of  its  complex  structure.  Under  the  micro- 
scope, it  is  seen  to  be  formed  by  the  close 
juxtaposition,  the  welding,  end  to  end,  of 
the  ganglia,  which  can  be  distinguished  one 
from  the  other  by  a  slight  intermediate 
groove.  The  bulkiest  are  the  first,  the 
fourth  and  the  tenth,  or  last;  these  are  all 
very  nearly  of  equal  size.  The  rest  are 
barely  half  or  even  a  third  as  large  as  those 
mentioned. 

The  Interrupted  Scolia  experiences  the 
same  hunting  and  surgical  difficulties  when 
she  attacks,  in  the  crumbling,  sandy  soil,  the 
larvae  of  the  Shaggy  Anoxia  or  of  the  Morn- 
ing Anoxia,  according  to  the  district;  and 
these  difficulties,  if  they  are  to  be  overcome, 
demand  in  the  victim  a  concentrated  nervous 
system,  like  the  Cetonia's.  Such  is  my  lo- 
gical conviction  before  making  my  examina- 
tion; such  also  is  the  result  of  direct  observa- 
tion. When  subjected  to  the  scalpel,  the 
larva  of  the  Morning  Anoxia  shows  me  its 
centres  of  innervation  for  the  thorax  and 
the  abdomen,  gathered  into  a  short  cylinder, 
96 


The  Cetonia-larva 

which,  placed  very  far  forward,  almost  im- 
mediately after  the  head,  does  not  run  back 
beyond  the  level  of  the  second  pair  of  legs. 
The  vulnerable  point  is  thus  easily  accessible 
to  the  sting,  despite  the  creature's  posture 
of  defence,  in  which  it  contracts  and  coils  up. 
In  this  cylinder  I  recognize  eleven  ganglia, 
one  more  than  in  the  Cetonia.  The  first 
three,  or  thoracic,  ganglia  are  plainly  distin- 
guishable from  one  another,  although  they 
are  set  very  close  together;  the  rest  are  all 
in  contact.  The  largest  are  the  three  tho- 
racic ganglia  and  the  eleventh. 

After  ascertaining  these  facts,  I  remem- 
bered Swammerdam's l  investigations  into 
the  grub  of  the  Monoceros,  our  Oryctes  nasi- 
cornis.  I  chanced  to  possess  an  abridgement 
of  the  Biblia  nature,  the  masterly  work  of 
the  father  of  insect  anatomy.  I  consulted 
the  venerable  volume.  It  informed  me  that 
the  learned  Dutchman  had  been  struck,  long 
before  I  was,  by  an  anatomical  peculiarity 
similar  to  that  which  the  larvae  of  the  Ce- 
toniae  and  Anoxias  had  shown  me  in  their 
nerve-centres.  Having  observed  in  the  Silk- 
worm a  nervous  system  formed  of  ganglia 
distinct  one  from  the  other,  he  was  quite  sur- 

xjan   Swammerdam    (1637-1680),  the  Dutch  naturalist 
and  anatomist. —  Translator's  Note. 
97 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

prised  to  find  that,  in  the  grub  of  the  Oryctes, 
the  same  system  was  concentrated  into  a 
short  chain  of  ganglia  in  juxtaposition.  His 
was  the  surprise  of  the  anatomist  who,  study- 
ing the  organ  qua  organ,  sees  for  the  first 
time  an  unusual  conformation.  Mine  was  of 
a  different  nature :  I  was  amazed  to  see  the 
precision  with  which  the  paralysis  of  the  vic- 
tim sacrificed  by  the  Scolia,  a  paralysis  so 
profound  in  spite  of  the  difficulties  of  an  un- 
derground operation,  had  guided  my  fore- 
cast as  to  structure  when,  anticipating  the 
dissection,  I  declared  in  favour  of  an  excep- 
tional concentration  of  the  nervous  system. 
Physiology  perceived  what  anatomy  had  not 
yet  revealed,  at  all  events  to  my  eyes,  for 
since  then,  on  dipping  into  my  books,  I  have 
learnt  that  these  anatomical  peculiarities, 
which  were  then  so  new  to  me,  are  now 
within  the  domain  of  current  science.  We 
know  that,  in  the  Scarabaeidae,  both  the  larva 
and  the  perfect  insect  are  endowed  with  a 
concentrated  nervous  system. 

The  Garden  Scolia  attacks  Oryctes  nasi- 
cornls;  the  Two-banded  Scolia  the  Cetonia; 
the  Interrupted  Scolia  the  Anoxia.  All 
three  operate  below  ground,  under  the  most 
unfavourable  conditions;  and  all  three  have 
for  their  victim  a  larva  of  one  of  the  Scara- 
98 


The  Cetonia-larva 

baeidae,  which,  thanks  to  the  exceptional  ar- 
rangement of  its  nerve-centres,  lends  itself, 
alone  of  all  larvae,  to  the  Wasp's  successful 
enterprises.  In  the  presence  of  this  under- 
ground game,  so  greatly  varied  in  size  and 
shape  and  yet  so  judiciously  selected  to  fa- 
cilitate paralysis,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  gene- 
ralize and  I  accept,  as  the  ration  of  the  other 
Scoliae,  larvae  of  Lamellicorns  whose  species 
will  be  determined  by  future  observation. 
Perhaps  one  of  them  will  be  found  to  give 
chase  to  the  terrible  enemy  of  my  crops,  the 
voracious  White  Worm,  the  grub  of  the 
Cockchafer;  perhaps  the  Hemorrhoidal 
Scolia,  rivalling  in  size  the  Garden  Scolia 
and  like  her,  no  doubt,  requiring  a  copious 
diet,  will  be  entered  in  the  insects'  Who's 
Who  as  the  destroyer  of  the  Pine-chafer, 
that  magnificent  Beetle,  flecked  with  white 
upon  a  black  or  brown  ground,  who  of  an 
evening,  during  the  summer  solstice,  browses 
on  the  foliage  of  the  fir-trees.  Though  un- 
able to  speak  with  .certainty  or  precision,  I 
am  inclined  to  look  upon  these  devourers  of 
Scarabaeus-grubs  as  valiant  agricultural  auxi- 
liaries. 

The  Cetonia-larva  has  figured  hitherto 
only  in  its  quality  of  a  paralysed  victim.  We 
will  now  consider  it  in  its  normal  state. 

99 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

With  its  convex  back  and  its  almost  flat 
ventral  surface,  the  creature  is  like  a  semi- 
cylinder  in  shape,  fuller  in  the  hinder  portion. 
On  the  back,  each  of  the  segments,  except 
the  last,  or  anal,  segment,  puckers  into  three 
thick  pads,  bristling  with  stiff,  tawny  hairs. 
The  anal  segment,  much  wider  than  the  rest, 
is  rounded  at  the  end  and  coloured  a  deep 
brown  by  the  contents  of  the  intestine,  which 
show  through  the  translucent  skin ;  it  bristles 
with  hairs  like  the  other  segments,  but  is 
level,  without  pads.  On  the  ventral  sur- 
face, the  segments  have  no  creases;  and  the 
hairs,  though  abundant,  are  rather  less  so 
than  on  the  back.  The  legs,  which  are  quite 
well-formed,  are  short  and  feeble  in  com- 
parison with  the  animal's  size.  The  head 
has  a  strong,  horny  cap  for  a  cranium.  The 
mandibles  are  powerful,  with  bevelled  tips 
and  three  or  four  teeth  on  the  edge  of  the 
bevel. 

Its  mode  of  locomotion  marks  it  as  an 
idiosyncratic,  exceptional,  fantastic  creature, 
having  no  fellow,  that  I  know  of,  in  the  in- 
sect world.  Though  endowed  with  legs  - 
a  trifle  short,  it  is  true,  but  after  all  as  good 
as  those  of  a  host  of  other  larvae  —  it  never 
uses  them  for  walking.  It  progresses  on 
its  back,  always  on  its  back,  never  otherwise. 

100 


The  Cetonia-larva 

By  means  of  wriggling  movements  and  the 
purchase  afforded  by  the  dorsal  bristles,  it 
makes  its  way  belly  upwards,  with  its  legs 
kicking  the  empty  air.  The  spectator  to 
whom  these  topsy-turvy  gymnastics  are  a 
novelty  thinks  at  first  that  the  creature  must 
have  had  a  fright  of  some  sort  and  that  it  is 
struggling  as  best  it  can  in  the  face  of  dan- 
ger. He  puts  it  back  on  its  belly;  he  lays 
it  on  its  side.  Nothing  is  of  any  use;  it 
obstinately  turns  over  and  resumes  its  dorsal 
progress.  That  is  its  manner  of  travelling 
over  a  flat  surface;  it  has  no  other. 

This  reversal  of  the  usual  mode  of  walk- 
ing is  so  peculiar  to  the  Cetonia-larva  that 
it  is  enough  in  itself  to  reveal  the  grub's 
identity  to  the  least  expert  eyes.  Dig  into 
the  vegetable  mould  formed  by  the  decayed 
wood  in  the  hollow  trunks  of  old  willow- 
trees,  search  at  the  foot  of  rotten  stumps  or 
in  heaps  of  compost;  and,  if  you  come  upon  a 
plumpish  grub  moving  along  on  its  back, 
there  is  no  room  for  doubt:  your  discovery 
is  a  Cetonia-larva. 

This  topsy-turvy  progress  is  fairly  swift 
and  is  not  less  in  speed  to  that  of  an  equally 
fat  grub  travelling  on  its  legs.  It  would 
even  be  greater  on  a  polished  surface,  where 
walking  on  foot  is  hampered  by  incessant 

101 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

slips,  whereas  the  numerous  hairs  of  the  dor- 
sal pads  find  the  necessary  support  by  mul- 
tiplying the  points  of  contact.  On  polished 
wood,  on  a  sheet  of  paper  and  even  on  a 
strip  of  glass,  I  see  my  grubs  moving  from 
point  to  point  with  the  same  ease  as  on  a 
surface  of  garden  mould.  In  the  space  of 
one  minute,  on  the  wood  of  my  table,  they 
cover  a  distance  of  eight  inches.  The  pace 
is  no  swifter  on  a  horizontal  bed  of  sifted 
mould.  A  strip  of  glass  reduces  the  distance 
covered  by  one  half.  The  slippery  surface 
only  half  paralyses  this  strange  method  of 
locomotion. 

We  will  now  place  side  by  side  with  the 
Cetonia-grub  the  larva  of  the  Morning 
Anoxia,  the  prey  of  the  Interrupted  Scolia. 
It  is  very  like  the  larva  of  the  Common 
Cockchafer.  It  is  a  fat,  pot-bellied  grub, 
with  a  thick,  red  cap  on  its  head  and  armed 
with  strong,  black  mandibles,  which  are 
powerful  implements  for  digging  and  cutting 
through  roots.  The  legs  are  sturdy  and  end 
in  a  hooked  nail.  The  creature  has  a  long, 
heavy,  brown  paunch.  When  placed  on  the 
table,  it  lies  on  its  side;  it  struggles  without 
being  able  to  advance  or  even  to  remain  on 
its  belly  or  back.  In  its  usual  posture  it  is 
curled  up  into  a  narrow  hook.  I  have  never 

102 


The  Cetonia-larva 

seen  it  straighten  itself  completely;  the  bulky 
abdomen  prevents  it.  When  placed  on  a 
surface  of  moist  sand,  the  ventripotent  crea- 
ture is  no  better  able  to  shift  its  position: 
curved  into  a  fish-hook,  it  lies  on  its  side. 

To  dig  into  the  earth  and  bury  itself,  it 
uses  the  fore-edge  of  its  head,  a  sort  of 
weeding-hoe  with  the  two  mandibles  for 
points.  The  legs  take  part  in  this  work,  but 
far  less  effectually.  In  this  way  it  contrives 
to  dig  itself  a  shallow  pit.  Then,  bracing 
itself  against  the  wall  of  the  pit,  with  the 
aid  of  wriggling  movements  which  are  fa- 
voured by  the  short,  stiff  hairs  bristling  all 
over  its  body,  the  grub  changes  its  position 
and  plunges  into  the  sand,  but  still  with  dif- 
ficulty. 

Apart  from  a  few  details,  which  are  of  no 
importance  here,  we  may  repeat  this  sketch 
of  the  Anoxia-grub  and  we  shall  have,  if  the 
size  be  at  least  quadrupled,  a  picture  of  the 
larva  of  Oryctes  nasicornis,  the  monstrous 
prey  of  the  Garden  Scolia.  Its  general  ap- 
pearance is  the  same :  there  is  the  same  exag- 
geration of  the  belly;  the  same  hook-like 
curve;  the  same  incapacity  for  standing  on 
its  legs.  And  as  much  may  be  said  of  the 
larva  of  Scarabteus  pentodon,  a  fellow- 
boarder  of  the  Oryctes  and  the  Cetonia. 
103 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  THE  SCOLLE 

NOW  that  all  the  facts  have  been  set 
forth,  it  is  time  to  collate  them.  We 
already  know  that  the  Beetle-hunters,  the 
Cerceres,1  prey  exclusively  on  the  Weevils 
and  the  Buprestes,  that  is,  on  the  families 
whose  nervous  system  presents  a  degree  of 
concentration  which  may  be  compared  with 
that  of  the  Scolia's  victims.  Those  preda- 
tory insects,  working  in  the  open  air,  are 
exempt  from  the  difficulties  which  their  emu- 
lators, working  underground,  have  to  over- 
come. Their  movements  are  free  and  are 
directed  by  the  sense  of  sight;  but  their 
surgery  is  confronted  in  another  respect  with 
a  most  arduous  problem. 

The  victim,  a  Beetle,  is  covered  at  all 
points  with  a  suit  of  armour  which  the  sting 
is  unable  to  penetrate.  The  joints  alone  will 
allow  the  poisoned  lancet  to  pass.  Those  of 
the  legs  do  not  in  any  way  comply  with  the 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  i.  to  iii.—  Translator's 
Note. 

104 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

conditions  imposed:  the  result  of  stinging 
them  would  be  merely  a  partial  disorder 
which  far  from  subduing  the  insect,  would 
render  it  more  dangerous  by  irritating  it  yet 
further.  A  sting  in  the  joint  of  the  neck  is 
not  admissible:  it  would  injure  the  cervical 
ganglia  and  lead  to  death,  followed  by  putre- 
faction. There  remains  only  the  joint  be- 
tween the  corselet  and  the  abdomen. 

The  sting,  in  entering  here,  has  to  abolish 
all  movement  with  a  single  stab,  for  any 
movement  would  imperil  the  rearing  of  the 
larva.  The  success  of  the  paralysis,  there- 
fore, demands  that  the  motor  ganglia,  at 
least  the  three  thoracic  ganglia,  shall  be 
packed  in  close  contact  opposite  this  point. 
This  determines  the  selection  of  Weevils 
and  Buprestes,  both  of  which  are  so  strongly 
armoured. 

But  where  the  prey  has  only  a  soft  skin, 
incapable  of  stopping  the  sting,  the  concen- 
trated nervous  system  is  no  longer  necessary, 
for  the  operator,  versed  in  the  anatomical 
secrets  of  her  victim,  knows  to  perfection 
where  the  centres  of  innervation  lie;  and  she 
wounds  them  one  after  another,  if  need  be 
from  the  first  to  the  last.  Thus  do  the 
Ammophila?  go  to  work  when  dealing  with 
their  caterpillars  and  the  Sphex-wasps  when 
105 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

dealing  with  their  Locusts,  Ephippigers  and 
Crickets. 

With  the  Scoliae  we  come  once  again  to  a 
soft  prey,  with  a  skin  penetrable  by  the  sting 
no  matter  where  it  be  attacked.  Will  the 
tactics  of  the  caterpillar-hunters,  who  stab 
and  stab  again,  be  repeated  here?  No,  for 
the  difficulty  of  movement  under  ground 
prohibits  so  complicated  an  operation.  Only 
the  tactics  of  the  paralysers  of  armour-clad 
insects  are  practicable  now,  for,  since  there 
is  but  one  thrust  of  the  dagger,  the  feat  of 
surgery  is  reduced  to  its  simplest  terms,  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  difficulties  of  an 
underground  operation.  The  Scoliae,  then, 
whose  destiny  it  is  to  hunt  and  paralyse  un- 
der the  soil  the  victuals  for  their  family,  re- 
quire a  prey  made  highly  vulnerable  by  the 
close  assemblage  of  the  nerve-centres,  as  are 
the  Weevils  and  Buprestes  of  the  Cerceres; 
and  this  is  why  it  has  fallen  to  their  lot  to 
share  among  them  the  larvae  of  the  Scara- 
baeidae. 

Before  they  obtained  their  allotted  por- 
tion, so  closely  restricted  and  so  judiciously 
selected;  before  they  discovered  the  precise 
and  almost  mathematical  point  at  which  the 
sting  must  enter  to  produce  a  sudden  and  a 
lasting  immobility;  before  they  learnt  how 
106 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

to  consume,  without  incurring  the  risk  of 
putrefaction,  so  corpulent  a  prey:  in  brief, 
before  they  combined  these  three  conditions 
of  success,  what  did  the  Scoliae  do? 

The  Darwinian  school  will  reply  that  they 
were  hesitating,  essaying,  experimenting. 
A  long  series  of  blind  gropings  eventually 
hit  upon  the  most  favourable  combination,  a 
combination  henceforth  to  be  perpetuated 
by  hereditary  transmission.  The  skilful  co- 
ordination between  the  end  and  the  means 
was  originally  the  result  of  an  accident. 

Chance!  A  convenient  refuge!  I  shrug 
my  shoulders  when  I  hear  it  invoked  to 
explain  the  genesis  of  an  instinct  so  complex 
as  that  of  the  Scoliae.  In  the  beginning,  you 
say,  the  creature  gropes  and  feels  its  way; 
there  is  nothing  settled  about  its  preferences. 
To  feed  its  carnivorous  larvae  it  levies 
tribute  on  every  species  of  game  which  is  not 
too  much  for  the  huntress'  power  or  the 
nurseling's  appetite;  its  descendants  try  now 
this,  now  that,  now  something  else,  at  ran- 
dom, until  the  accumulated  centuries  lead  to 
the  selection  which  best  suits  the  race.  Then 
habit  grows  fixed  and  becomes  instinct. 

Very  well.     Let  us  agree  that  the  Scolia 
of  antiquity  sought  a  different  prey  from  that 
adopted  by   the   modern   huntress.     If   the 
107 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

family  throve  upon  a  diet  now  discontinued, 
we  fail  to  see  that  the  descendants  had  any 
reason  to  change  it:  animals  have  not  the 
gastronomic  fancies  of  an  epicure  whom 
satiety  makes  difficult  to  please.  Because 
the  race  did  well  upon  this  fare,  it  became 
habitual;  and  instinct  became  differently 
fixed  from  what  it  is  to-day.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  original  food  was  unsuitable, 
the  existence  of  the  family  was  jeopardized; 
and  any  attempt  at  future  improvement  be- 
came impossible,  because  an  unhappily  in- 
spired mother  would  leave  no  heirs. 

To  escape  falling  into  this  twofold  trap, 
the  theorists  will  reply  that  the  Scoliae  are 
descended  from  a  precursor,  an  indetermi- 
nate creature,  of  changeable  habits  and 
changing  form,  modifying  itself  in  accord- 
ance with  its  environment  and  with  the  re- 
gional and  climatic  conditions  and  branching 
out  into  races  each  of  which  has  become  a 
species  with  the  attributes  which  distinguish  it 
today.  The  precursor  is  the  deus  ex  machina 
of  evolution.  When  the  difficulty  becomes 
altogether  too  importunate,  quick,  a  pre- 
cursor, to  fill  up  the  gaps,  quick,  an  imagin- 
ary creature,  the  nebulous  plaything  of  the 
mind!  This  is  seeking  to  lighten  the  dark- 
ness with  a  still  deeper  obscurity;  to  illumine 
108 


The  Problem  of  the  Scolise 

the  day  by  piling  cloud  upon  cloud.  Precur- 
sors are  easier  to  find  than  sound  arguments. 
Nevertheless,  let  us  put  the  precursor  of  the 
Scoliae  to  the  test. 

What  did  she  do?  Being  capable  of 
everything,  she  did  a  bit  of  everything. 
Among  its  descendants  were  innovators  who 
developed  a  taste  for  tunnelling  in  sand  and 
vegetable  mould.  There  they  encountered 
the  larvae  of  the  Cetonia,  the  Oryctes,  the 
Anoxia,  succulent  morsels  on  which  to  rear 
their  families.  By  degrees  the  indetermin- 
ate Wasp  adopted  the  sturdy  proportions  de- 
manded by  underground  labour.  By  degrees 
she  learnt  to  stab  her  plump  neighbours  in 
scientific  fashion;  by  degrees  she  acquired  the 
difficult  art  of  consuming  her  prey  without 
killing  it;  at  length,  by  degrees,  aided  by  the 
richness  of  her  diet,  she  became  the  powerful 
Scolia  with  whom  we  are  familiar.  Having 
reached  this  point,  the  species  assumes  a 
permanent  form,  as  does  its  instinct. 

Here  we  have  a  multiplicity  of  stages,  all 
of  the  slowest,  all  of  the  most  incredible 
nature,  whereas  the  Wasp  cannot  found  a 
race  except  on  the  express  condition  of  com- 
plete success  from  the  first  attempt.  We 
will  not  insist  further  upon  the  insurmount- 
able objection;  we  will  admit  that,  amid  so 
109 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

many  unfavourable  chances,  a  few  favoured 
individuals  survive,  becoming  more  and  more 
numerous  from  one  generation  to  the  next, 
in  proportion  as  the  dangerous  art  of  rear- 
ing the  young  is  perfected.  Slight  variations 
in  one  and  the  same  direction  form  a  definite 
whole ;  and  at  long  last  the  ancient  precursor 
has  become  the  Scolia  of  our  own  times. 

By  the  aid  of  a  vague  phraseology  which 
juggles  with  the  secret  of  the  centuries  and 
the  unknown  things  of  life,  it  is  easy  to  build 
up  a  theory  in  which  our  mental  sloth  de- 
lights, after  being  discouraged  by  difficult 
researches  whose  final  result  is  doubt  rather 
than  positive  statement.  But  if,  so  far  from 
being  satisfied  with  hazy  generalities  and 
adopting  as  current  coin  the  terms  conse- 
crated by  fashion,  we  have  the  perseverance 
to  explore  the  truth  as  far  as  lies  in  our 
power,  the  aspect  of  things  will  undergo  a 
great  change  and  we  shall  discover  that  they 
are  far  less  simple  than  our  overprecipitate 
views  declared  them  to  be.  Generalization 
is  certainly  a  most  valuable  instrument :  sci- 
ence indeed  exists  only  by  virtue  of  it.  Let 
us  none  the  less  beware  of  generalizations 
which  are  not  based  upon  very  firm  and  mani- 
fold foundations. 

When  these  foundations  are  lacking,  the 
no 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

child  is  the  great  generalizer.  For  him,  the 
feathered  world  consists  merely  of  birds; 
the  race  of  reptiles  merely  of  snakes,  the  only 
difference  being  that  some  are  big  and  some 
are  little.  Knowing  nothing,  he  generalizes 
in  the  highest  degree;  he  simplifies,  in  his 
inability  to  perceive  the  complex.  Later  he 
will  learn  that  the  Sparrow  is  not  the  Bull- 
finch, that  the  Linnet  is  not  the  Greenfinch; 
he  will  particularize  and  to  a  greater  degree 
each  day,  as  his  faculty  of  observation  be- 
comes more  fully  trained.  In  the  beginning 
he  saw  nothing  but  resemblances;  he  now 
sees  differences,  but  still  not  plainly  enough 
to  avoid  incongruous  comparisons. 

In  his  adult  years  he  will  almost  to  a  cer- 
tainty commit  zoological  blunders  similar  to 
those  which  my  gardener  retails  to  me. 
Favier,  an  old  soldier,  has  never  opened  a 
book,  for  the  best  of  reasons.  He  barely 
knows  how  to  cipher:  arithmetic  rather  than 
reading  is  forced  upon  us  by  the  brutalities 
of  life.  Having  followed  the  flag  over 
three-quarters  of  the  globe,  he  has  an  open 
mind  and  a  memory  crammed  with  reminis- 
cences, which  does  not  prevent  him,  when 
we  chat  about  animals,  from  making  the  most 
crazy  assertions.  For  him  the  Bat  is  a  Rat 
that  has  grown  wings ;  the  Cuckoo  is  a  Spar- 
iii 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

row-hawk  retired  from  business;  the  Slug  is 
a  Snail  who  has  lost  his  shell  with  the  ad- 
vance of  years;  the  Nightjar,1  the  Chaoucho- 
grapaou,  as  he  calls  her,  is  an  elderly  Toad, 
who,  becoming  enamoured  of  milk-food,  has 
grown  feathers,  so  that  she  may  enter  the 
byres  and  milk  the  Goats.  It  is  impossible 
to  drive  these  fantastic  ideas  out  of  his  head. 
Favier  himself,  as  will  be  seen,  is  an  evolu- 
tionist after  his  own  fashion,  an  evolutionist 
of  a  very  daring  type.  In  accounting  for 
the  origin  of  animals  nothing  gives  him 
pause.  He  has  a  reply  to  everything: 
"  this  "  comes  from  "  that."  If  you  ask 
him  why,  he  answers : 

"  Look  at  the  resemblance !  " 

Shall  we  reproach  him  with  these  insani- 
ties, when  we  hear  another,  misled  by  the 
Monkey's  build,  acclaim  the  Pithecanthropus 
as  man's  precursor?  Shall  we  reject  the 
metamorphosis  of  the  Chaoucho-grapaou, 
when  people  tell,  us  in  all  seriousness  that,  in 
the  present  stage  of  scientific  knowledge,  it  is 
absolutely  proved  that  man  is  descended 
from  some  rough-hewn  Ape?  Of  the  two 
transformations,  Favier's  strikes  me  as  the 
more  credible.  A  painter  of  my  acquaint- 

1  Known   also  as  the   Goatsucker,   because  of  the  mis- 
taken belief  that  the  bird  sucks  the  milk  of  Goats,   and, 
in  America,  as  the  Whippoorwill. —  Translator's  Note. 
112 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

ance,  a  brother  of  the  great  composer  Fe- 
licien  David,1  favoured  me  one  day  with  his 
reflections  on  the  human  structure: 

"  Vey  moun  bel  ami"  he  said.  "  Ve: 
I'home  a  lou  dintre  d'un  por  et  lou  defero 
d'uno  mounino.  See,  my  dear  friend,  see : 
man  has  the  inside  of  a  pig  and  the  outside 
of  a  monkey." 

I  recommend  the  painter's  aphorism  to 
those  who  might  like  to  discover  man's  origin 
in  the  Hog  when  the  Ape  has  gone  out  of 
fashion.  According  to  David,  descent  is 
proved  by  internal  resemblances: 

"  L'home  a  lou  dintre  d'un  por." 

The  inventory  of  precursory  types  sees 
nothing  but  organic  resemblances  and  dis- 
dains the  differences  of  aptitude.  By  con- 
sulting only  the  bones,  the  vertebrae,  the  hair, 
the  nervures  of  the  wings,  the  joints  of  the 
antennae,  the  imagination  may  build  up  any 
sort  of  genealogical  tree  that  will  fit  with 
our  theories  of  classification,  for,  when  all 
is  said,  the  animal,  in  its  widest  generaliza- 
tion, is  represented  by  a  digestive  tube. 
With  this  common  factor,  the  way  lies  open 
to  every  kind  of  error.  A  machine  is 
judged  not  by  this  or  that  train  of  wheels, 

iFelicien  Cesar  David  (1810-1876).  His  chief  work 
was  the  choral  symphony  Le  Desert. — Translator's  Note. 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

but  by  the  nature  of  the  work  accomplished. 
The  monumental  roasting-jack  of  a  wag- 
goners' inn  and  a  Breguet l  chronometer 
both  have  trains  of  cogwheels  geared  in  al- 
most a  similar  fashion.  Are  we  to  class  the 
two  mechanisms  together?  Shall  we  forget 
that  the  one  turns  a  shoulder  of  mutton  be- 
fore the  hearth,  while  the  other  divides  time 
into  seconds? 

In  the  same  way,  the  organic  scaffolding 
is  dominated  from  on  high  by  the  aptitudes 
of  the  animal,  especially  that  superior  char- 
acteristic, the  psychical  aptitudes.  That  the 
Chimpanzee  and  the  hideous  Gorilla  possess 
close  resemblances  of  structure  to  our  own  is 
obvious.  But  let  us  for  a  moment  consider 
their  aptitudes.  What  differences,  what  a 
dividing  gulf!  Without  exalting  ourselves 
as  high  as  the  famous  reed  of  which  Pascal  2 
speaks,  that  reed  which,  in  its  weakness,  by 
the  mere  fact  that  it  knows  itself  to  be 
crushed,  is  superior  to  the  world  that  crushes 
it,  we  may  at  least  ask  to  be  shown,  some- 
where, an  animal  making  an  implement, 
which  will  multiply  its  skill  and  its  strength, 

1  Louis  Breguet  (1803-1883),  a  famous  Parisian  watch- 
maker and  physicist. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  Blaise  Pascal   (1623-1662).     The  allusion  is  to  a  pass- 
age   in    the    philospher's    Pensees.     Pascal    describes    man 
as  a   reed,  the  weakest  thing  in  nature,  but  "  a  thinking 
reed." —  Translator's  Note. 

114 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

or  taking  possession  of  fire,  the  primordial 
element  of  progress.  Master  of  implements 
and  of  fire!  These  two  aptitudes,  simple 
though  they  be,  characterize  man  better  than 
the  number  of  his  vertebrae  and  his  molars. 

You  tell  us  that  man,  at  first  a  hairy  brute, 
walking  on  all  fours,  has  risen  on  his  hind- 
legs  and  shed  his  fur;  and  you  complacently 
demonstrate  how  the  elimination  of  the  hairy 
pelt  was  effected.  Instead  of  bolstering  up 
a  theory  with  a  handful  of  fluff  gained  or 
lost,  it  would  perhaps  be  better  to  settle  how 
the  original  brute  became  the  possessor  of 
implements  and  fire.  Aptitudes  are  more 
important  than  hair;  and  you  neglect  them 
because  it  is  there  that  the  insurmountable 
difficulty  really  resides.  See  how  the  great 
master  of  evolution  hesitates  and  stammers 
when  he  tries,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  to  fit 
instinct  into  the  mould  of  his  formulae.  It 
is  not  so  easy  to  handle  as  the  colour  of  the 
pelt,  the  length  of  the  tail,  the  ear  that 
droops  or  stands  erect.  Yes,  our  master 
well  knows  that  this  is  where  the  shoe 
pinches !  Instinct  escapes  him  and  brings 
his  theory  crumbling  to  the  ground. 

Let  us  return  to  what  the  Scoliae  teach  us 
on  this  question,  which  incidentally  touches 
on  our  own  origin.  In  conformity  with  the 
115 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Darwinian  ideas,  we  have  accepted  an  un- 
known precursor,  who  by  dint  of  repeated 
experiment,  adopted  as  the  victuals  to  be 
hoarded  the  larvae  of  the  Scarabaeidae.  This 
precursor,  modified  by  varying  circumstances, 
is  supposed  to  have  subdivided  herself  into 
ramifications,  one  of  which,  digging  into 
vegetable  mould  and  preferring  the  Cetonia 
to  any  other  game  inhabiting  the  same  heap, 
became  the  Two-banded  Scolia ;  another,  also 
addicted  to  exploring  the  soil,  but  selecting 
the  Oryctes,  left  as  its  descendant  the  Gar- 
den Scolia;  and  a  third,  establishing  itself 
in  sandy  ground,  where  it  found  the  Anoxia, 
was  the  ancestress  of  the  Interrupted  Scolia. 
To  these  three  ramifications  we  must  beyond 
a  doubt  add  others  which  complete  the  series 
of  the  Scoliae.  As  their  habits  are  known  to 
me  only  by  analogy,  I  confine  myself  to  men- 
tioning them. 

The  three  species  at  least,  therefore,  with 
which  I  am  familiar  would  appear  to  be  de- 
rived from  a  common  precursor.  To  tra- 
verse the  distance  from  the  starting-point  to 
the  goal,  all  three  have  had  to  contend  with 
difficulties,  which  are  extremely  grave  if 
considered  one  by  one  and  are  aggravated 
even  more  by  this  circumstance,  that  the 
overcoming  of  one  would  lead  to  nothing 
116 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

unless  the  others  were  surmounted  as  suc- 
cessfully. Success,  then,  is  contingent  upon 
a  series  of  conditions,  each  one  of  which 
offers  almost  no  chance  of  victory,  so  that 
the  fulfilment  of  them  all  becomes  a  mathe- 
matical absurdity  if  we  are  to  invoke  acci- 
dent alone. 

And,  in  the  first  place,  how  was  it  that  the 
Scolia  of  antiquity,  having  to  provide  rations 
for  her  carnivorous  family,  adopted  for  her 
prey  only  those  larvae  which,  owing  to  the 
concentration  of  their  nervous  systems,  form 
so  remarkable  and  so  rare  an  exception  in 
the  insect  order?  What  chance  would 
hazard  offer  her  of  obtaining  this  prey,  the 
most  suitable  of  all  because  the  most  vulner- 
able ?  The  chance  represented  by  unity  com- 
pared with  the  indefinite  number  of  ento- 
mological species.  The  odds  are  as  one  to 
immensity. 

Let  us  continue.  The  larva  of  the  Scara- 
baeid  is  snapped  up  underground,  for  the 
first  time.  The  victim  protests,  defends  it- 
self after  its  fashion,  coils  itself  up  and  pre- 
sents to  the  sting  on  every  side  a  surface 
on  which  a  wound  entails  no  serious  danger. 
And  yet  the  Wasp,  an  absolute  novice,  has 
to  select,  for  the  thrust  of  its  poisoned 
weapon,  one  single  point,  narrowly  restricted 
117 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

and  hidden  in  the  folds  of  the  larva's  body. 
If  she  miscalculates,  she  may  be  killed:  the 
larva,  irritated  by  the  smarting  puncture,  is 
strong  enough  to  disembowel  her  with  the 
tusks  of  its  mandibles.  If  she  escapes  the 
danger,  she  will  nevertheless  perish  without 
leaving  any  offspring,  since  the  necessary  pro- 
visions will  be  lacking.  Salvation  for  her- 
self and  her  race  depends  on  this:  whether 
at  the  first  thrust  she  is  able  to  reach  the 
little  nervous  plexus  which  measures  barely 
one-fiftieth  of  an  inch  in  width.  What 
chance  has  she  of  plunging  her  lancet  into  it, 
if  there  is  nothing  to  guide  her  ?  The  chance 
represented  by  unity  compared  with  the  num- 
ber of  points  composing  the  victim's  body. 
The  odds  are  as  one  against  immensity. 

Let  us  proceed  still  further.  The  sting 
has  reached  the  mark;  the  fat  grub  is  de- 
prived of  movement.  At  what  spots  should 
the  egg  now  be  laid?  In  front,  behind,  on 
the  sides,  the  back  or  the  belly?  The  choice 
is  not  a  matter  of  indifference.  The  young 
grub  will  pierce  the  skin  of  its  provender  at 
the  very  spot  on  which  the  egg  was  fixed; 
and,  once  an  opening  is  made,  it  will  go 
ahead  without  hesitation.  If  this  point  of 
attack  is  ill-chosen,  the  nurseling  runs  the 
risk  of  presently  finding  under  its  mandibles 
118 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

some  essential  organ,  which  should  have  been 
respected  until  the  end  in  order  to  keep  the 
victuals  fresh.  Remember  how  difficult  it 
is  to  complete  the  rearing  when  .the  tiny 
larva  is  moved  from  the  place  chosen  by  the 
mother.  The  game  promptly  becomes  pu- 
trid and  the  Scolia  dies. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  state  the  precise 
motives  which  lead  to  the  adoption  of  the 
spot  on  which  the  egg  is  laid;  I  can  perceive 
general  reasons,  but  the  details  escape  me, 
as  I  am  not  well  enough  versed  in  the  more 
delicate  questions  of  anatomy  and  entomo- 
logical physiology.  What  I  do  know  with 
absolute  certainty  is  that  the  same  spot  is 
invariably  chosen  for  laying  the  egg.  With 
not  a  single  exception,  on  all  the  victims  ex- 
tracted from  the  heap  of  garden  mould  — 
and  they  are  numerous  —  the  egg  is  fixed 
behind  the  ventral  surface,  on  the  verge  of 
the  brown  patch  formed  by  the  contents  of 
the  digestive  system. 

If  there  be  nothing  to  guide  her,  what 
chance  has  the  mother  of  gluing  her  egg  to 
this  point,  which  is  always  the  same  because 
it  is  that  most  favourable  to  successful  rear- 
ing? A  very  small  point,  represented  by  the 
ratio  of  two  or  three  square  millimetres  1 


1  About  Vioo  square  inch.  —  Translator's  Note. 
119 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  the  entire  surface  of  the  victim's  body. 

Is  this  all?  Not  yet.  The  grub  is 
hatched;  it  pierces  the  belly  of  the  Cetonia- 
larva  at  the  requisite  point;  it  plunges  its 
long  neck  into  the  entrails,  ransacking  them 
and  filling  itself  to  repletion.  If  it  bite  at 
random,  if  it  have  no  other  guide  in  the 
selection  of  tit-bits  than  the  preference  of  the 
moment  and  the  violence  of  an  imperious 
appetite,  it  will  infallibly  incur  the  danger 
of  being  poisoned  by  putrid  food,  for  the 
victim,  if  wounded  in  those  organs  which 
preserve  a  remnant  of  life  in  it,  will  die  for 
good  and  all  at  the  first  mouthfuls. 

The  ample  joint  must  be  consumed  with 
prudent  skill:  this  part  must  be  eaten  before 
that  and,  after  that,  some  other  portion, 
always  according  to  method,  until  the  time 
approaches  for  the  last  bites.  This  marks 
the  end  of  life  for  the  Cetonia,  but  it  also 
marks  the  end  of  the  Scolia's  feasting.  If 
the  grub  be  a  novice  in  the  art  of  eating,  if 
no  special  instinct  guide  its  mandibles  in  the 
belly  of  the  prey,  what  chance  has  it  of  com- 
pleting its  perilous  meal?  As  much  as  a 
starving  Wolf  would  have  of  daintily  dis- 
secting his  Sheep,  when  he  tears  at  her  glut- 
tonously, rends  her  into  shreds  and  gulps 
them  down. 

120 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

These  four  conditions  of  success,  with 
chance  so  near  to  zero  in  each  case,  must  all 
be  realized  together,  or  the  grub  will  never 
be  reared.  The  Scolia  may  have,  captured 
a  larva  with  close-packed  nerve-centres,  a 
Cetonia-grub,  for  instance;  but  this  will  go 
for  nothing  unless  she  direct  her  sting  to- 
wards the  only  vulnerable  point.  She  may 
know  the  whole  secret  of  the  art  of  stabbing 
her  victim,  but  this  means  nothing  if  she  does 
not  know  where  to  fasten  her  egg.  The 
suitable  spot  may  be  found,  but  all  the  fore- 
going will  be  useless  if  the  grub  be  not 
versed  in  the  method  to  be  followed  in  de- 
vouring its  prey  while  keeping  it  alive.  It 
is  all  or  nothing. 

Who  would  venture  to  calculate  the  final 
chance  on  which  the  future  of  the  Scolia,  or 
of  her  precursor,  is  based,  that  complex 
chance  whose  factors  are  four  infinitely  im- 
probable occurrences,  one  might  almost  say 
four  impossibilities?  And  such  a  conjunc- 
tion is  supposed  to  be  a  fortuitous  result,  to 
which  the  present  instinct  is  due!  Come, 
come! 

From  another  point  of  view  again,  the 
Darwinian  theory  is  at  variance  with  the 
Scoliae  and  their  prey.  In  the  heap  of  gar- 
den mould  which  I  exploited  in  order  to  write 

121 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

this  record,  three  kinds  of  larvae  dwell  to- 
gether, belonging  to  the  Scarabaeid  group: 
the  Cetonia,  the  Oryctes  and  Scarabaus 
pentodon.  Their  internal  structure  is  very 
nearly  similar;  their  food  is  the  same,  con- 
sisting of  decomposing  vegetable  matter; 
their  habits  are  identical:  they  live  under- 
ground in  tunnels  which  are  frequently  re- 
newed; they  make  a  rough  egg-shaped  cocoon 
of  earthy  materials.  Environment,  diet,  in- 
dustry and  internal  structure  are  all  similar; 
and  yet  one  of  these  three  larvae,  the  Ce- 
tonia's,  reveals  a  most  singular  dissimilarity 
from  its  fellow-trenchermen:  alone  among 
the  Scarabaeidae  and,  more  than  that,  alone 
in  all  the  immense  order  of  insects,  it  walks 
upon  its  back. 

If  the  differences  were  a  matter  of  a  few 
petty  structural  details,  falling  within  the 
finical  department  of  the  classifier,  we  might 
pass  them  over  without  hesitation;  but  a 
creature  that  turns  itself  upside  down  in 
order  to  walk  with  its  belly  in  the  air  and 
never  adopts  any  other  method  of  locomo- 
tion, though  it  possesses  legs  and  good  legs 
at  that,  assuredly  deserves  examination. 
How  did  the  animal  acquire  its  fantastic 
mode  of  progress  and  why  does  it  think  fit 

122 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

to  walk  in  a  fashion  the  exact  contrary  of 
that  adopted  by  other  beasts? 

To  these  questions  the  science  now  in 
fashion  always  has  a  reply  ready:  adapta- 
tion to  environment.  The  Cetonia-larva 
lives  in  crumbling  galleries  which  it  bores  in 
the  depths  of  the  soil.  Like  the  sweep  who 
obtains  a  purchase  with  his  back,  loins  and 
knees  to  hoist  himself  up  the  narrow  passage 
of  a  chimney,  it  gathers  itself  up,  applies  the 
tip  of  its  belly  to  one  wall  of  its  gallery 
and  its  sturdy  back  to  another;  and  the  com- 
bined effort  of  these  two  levers  results  in 
moving  it  forward.  The  legs,  which  are 
used  very  little,  indeed  hardly  at  all,  waste 
away  and  tend  to  disappear,  as  does  any  or- 
gan which  is  left  unemployed;  the  back,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  principal  motive  agent, 
grows  stronger,  is  furrowed  with  powerful 
folds  and  bristles  with  grappling-hooks  or 
hairs;  and  gradually,  by  adaptation  to  its  en- 
vironment, the  creature  loses  the  art  of  walk- 
ing, which  it  does  not  practise,  and  replaces 
it  by  that  of  crawling  on  its  back,  a  form  of 
progress  better  suited  to  underground  cor- 
ridors. 

So  far  so  good.  But  now  tell  me,  if  you 
please,  why  the  larvae  of  the  Oryctes  and  the 
123 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Scarabaeus,  living  in  vegetable  mould,  the 
larva  of  the  Anoxia,  dwelling  in  the  sand, 
and  the  larva  of  the  Cockchafer  in  our  cul- 
tivated fields  have  not  also  acquired  the 
faculty  of  walking  on  their  backs?  In  their 
galleries  they  follow  the  chimney-sweep's 
methods  quite  as  cleverly  as  the  Cetonia- 
grub;  to  move  forward  they  make  valiant 
use  of  their  backs  without  yet  having  come 
to  ambling  with  their  bellies  in  'the  air. 
Can  they  have  neglected  to  accommodate 
themselves  to  the  demands  of  their  environ- 
ment? If  evolution  and  environment  cause 
the  topsy-turvy  progress  of  the  one,  I  have 
the  right,  if  words  have  any  meaning  what- 
ever, to  demand  as  much  of  the  others,  since 
their  organization  is  so  much  alike  and  their 
mode  of  life  identical. 

I  have  but  little  respect  for  theories  which, 
when  confronted  with  two  similar  cases,  are 
unable  to  interpret  the  one  without  contra- 
dicting the  other.  They  make  me  laugh 
when  they  become  merely  childish.  For  ex- 
ample: why  has  the  tiger  a  coat  streaked 
black  and  yellow?  A  matter  of  environ- 
ment, replies  one  of  our  evolutionary  mas- 
ters. Ambushed  in  bamboo  thickets  where 
the  golden  radiance  of  the  sun  is  intersected 
by  stripes  of  shadow  cast  by  the  foliage,  the 
124 


The  Problem  of  the  Scoliae 

animal,  the  better  to  conceal  itself,  assumed 
the  colour  of  its  environment.  The  rays  of 
the  sun  produced  the  tawny  yellow  of  the 
coat;  the  stripes  of  shadow  added  the  black 
bars. 

And  there  you  have  it.  Any  one  who  re- 
fuses to  accept  the  explanation  must  be  very 
hard  to  please.  I  am  one  of  these  difficult 
persons.  If  it  were  a  dinner-table  jest,  made 
over  the  walnuts  and  the  wine,  I  would  will- 
ingly sing  ditto;  but  alas  and  alack,  it  is 
uttered  without  a  smile,  in  a  solemn  and 
magisterial  manner,  as  the  last  word  in  sci- 
ence! Toussenel,1  in  his  day,  asked  the 
naturalists  an  insidious  question.  Why,  he 
enquired,  have  Ducks  a  little  curly  feather 
on  the  rump?  No  one,  so  far  as  I  know, 
had  an  answer  for  the  teasing  cross-exam- 
iner: evolution  had  not  been  invented  then. 
In  our  time  the  reason  why  would  be  forth- 
coming in  a  moment,  as  lucid  and  as  well- 
founded  as  the  reason  why  of  the  tiger's  coat. 

Enough  of  childish  nonsense.  The  Ce- 
tonia-grub  walks  on  its  back  because  it  has 
always  done  so.  The  environment  does  not 
make  the  animal;  it  is  the  animal  that  is 

1Alphonse  Toussenel  (1803-1885),  the  author  of  a 
number  of  learned  and  curious  works  on  ornithology. — 
Translator's  Note. 

125 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

made  for  the  environment.  To  this  simple 
philosophy,  which  is  quite  antiquated  nowa- 
days, I  will  add  another,  which  Socrates  ex- 
pressed in  these  words: 

"  What  I  know  best  is  that  I  know  no- 
thing." 


126 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   TACHYTES 

'  I  VHE  family  of  Wasps  whose  name  I  in- 
-••  scribe  at  the  head  of  this  chapter  has 
not  hitherto,  so  far  as  I  know,  made  much 
noise  in  the  world.  Its  annals  are  limited 
to  methodical  classifications,  which  make 
very  poor  reading.  The  happy  nations, 
men  say,  are  those  which  have  no  history. 
I  accept  this,  but  I  also  admit  that  it  is  pos- 
sible to  have  a  history  without  ceasing  to  be 
happy.  In  the  conviction  that  I  shall  not 
disturb  its  prosperity,  I  will  try  to  substitute 
the  living,  moving  insect  for  the  insect  im- 
paled in  a  cork-bottomed  box. 

It  has  been  adorned  with  a  learned  name, 
derived  from  the  Greek  Tc^m??  tachytes, 
meaning  rapidity,  suddenness,  speed.  The 
creature's  godfather,  as  we  see,  had  a  smat- 
tering of  Greek;  its  denomination  is  none  the 
less  unfortunate :  intended  to  instruct  us  by 
means  of  a  characteristic  feature,  the  name 
leads  us  astray.  Why  is  speed  mentioned 
in  this  connection?  Why  a  label  which  pre- 
127 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

pares  the  mind  for  an  exceptional  velocity 
and  announces  a  race  of  peerless  coursers? 
Nimble  diggers  of  burrows  and  eager  hunt- 
ers the  Tachytes  are,  to  be  sure,  but  they 
are  no  better  than  a  host  of  rivals.  Not  the 
Sphex,  nor  the  Ammophila,  nor  the  Bembex, 
nor  many  another  would  admit  herself 
beaten  in  either  flying  ar  running.  At  the 
nesting-season,  all  this  tiny  world  of  hunt- 
resses is  filled  with  astounding  activity.  The 
quality  of  a  speedy  worker  being  common  to 
all,  none  can  boast  of  it  to  the  exclusion  of 
the  rest. 

Had  I  had  a  vote  when  the  Tachytes  was 
christened,  I  should  have  suggested  a  short, 
harmonious,  well-sounding  name,  meaning 
nothing  else  than  the  thing  meant.  What 
better,  for  example,  than  the  term  Sphex? 
The  ear  is  satisfied  and  the  mind  is  not  cor- 
rupted by  a  prejudice,  a  source  of  error  to 
the  beginner.  I  have  not  nearly  as  much 
liking  for  Ammophila,  which  represents  as  a 
lover  of  the  sands  an  animal  whose  esta- 
blishments call  for  compact  soil.  In  short,  if 
I  had  been  forced,  at  all  costs,  to  concoct  a 
barbarous  appellation  out  of  Latin  or  Greek 
in  order  to  recall  the  creature's  leading  char- 
acteristic, I  should  have  attempted  to  say,  a 
passionate  lover  of  the  Locust. 
128 


The  Tachytes 

Love  of  the  Locust,  in  the  broader  sense 
of  the  Orthopteron,  an  exclusive,  intolerant 
love,  handed  down  from  mother  to  daugh- 
ter with  a  fidelity  which  the  centuries  fail  to 
impair,  this,  yes,  this  indeed  depicts  the 
Tachytes  with  greater  accuracy  than  a  name 
smacking  of  the  race-course.  The  English- 
man has  his  roast  beef;  the  German  his 
sauerkraut;  the  Russian  his  caviare;  the  Ne- 
apolitan his  macaroni;  the  Piedmontese  his 
polenta;  the  man  of  Carpentras  his  ttan. 
The  Tachytes  has  her  Locust.  Her  national 
dish  is  also  that  of  the  Sphex,  with  whom  I 
boldly  associate  her.  The  methodical  classi- 
fier, who  works  in  cemeteries  and  seems  to 
fly  the  living  cities,  keeps  the  two  families 
far  removed  from  each  other  because  of 
considerations  attaching  to  the  nervures  of 
the  wings  and  the  joints  of  the  palpi.  At 
the  risk  of  passing  for  a  heretic,  I  bring  them 
together  at  the  suggestion  of  the  menu-card. 

To  my  own  knowledge,  my  part  of  the 
country  possesses  five  species,  one  and  all  ad- 
dicted to  a  diet  of  Orthoptera.  Panzer's 
Tachytes  (T.  Panzeri,  VAN  DER  LIND), 
girdled  with  red  at  the  base  of  the  abdomen, 
must  be  pretty  rare.  I  surprise  her  from 
time  to  time  working  on  the  hard  roadside 
banks  and  the  trodden  edges  of  the  foot- 
129 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

paths.  There,  to  a  depth  of  an  inch  at  most, 
she  digs  her  burrows,  each  isolated  from  the 
rest.  Her  prey  is  an  adult,  medium-sized 
Acridian,1  such  as  the  White-banded  Sphex 
pursues.  The  captive  of  the  one  would  not 
be  despised  by  the  other.  Gripped  by  the 
antennae,  according  to  the  ritual  of  the  Sphex, 
the  victim  is  trailed  along  on  foot  and  laid 
beside  the  nest,  with  the  head  pointing  to- 
wards the  opening.  The  pit,  prepared  in 
advance,  is  closed  for  the  time  being  with  a 
tiny  flagstone  and  some  bits  of  gravel,  in 
order  to  avoid  either  the  invasion  of  a 
passer-by  or  obstruction  by  landslips  during 
the  huntress'  absence.  A  like  precaution  is 
taken  by  the  White-banded  Sphex.  Both  ob- 
serve the  same  diet  and  the  same  customs. 

The  Tachytes  clears  the  entrance  to  the 
home  and  goes  in  alone.  She  returns,  puts 
out  her  head  and,  seizing  her  prey  by  the 
antennae,  warehouses  it  by  dragging  back- 
wards. I  have  repeated,  at  her  expense, 
the  tricks  which  I  used  to  play  on  the  Sphex.2 
While  the  Tachytes  is  underground,  I  move 
the  game  away.  The  insect  comes  up  again 
and  sees  nothing  at  its  door;  it  comes  out 

1  Locust  or  Grasshopper. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  For  the   author's  experiments  with  the  Languedocian, 
the  Yellow-winged  and  the  White-edged  Sphex,  cf.  The 
Hunting  Wasps:  chap.  xi. —  Translator's  Note. 

130 


The  Tachytes 

and  goes  to  fetch  its  Locust,  whom  it  places 
in  position  as  before.  This  done,  it  goes 
in  again  by  itself.  In  its  absence  I  once 
more  pull  back  the  prey.  Fresh  emergence 
of  the  Wasp,  who  puts  things  to  rights  and 
persists  in  going  down  again,  still  by  herself, 
however  often  I  repeat  the  experiment.  Yet 
it  would  very  easy  for  her  to  put  an  end  to 
my  teasing:  she  would  only  have  to  descend 
straightway  with  her  game,  instead  of  leav- 
ing it  for  a  moment  on  her  doorstep.  But, 
faithful  to  the  usages  of  her  race,  she  be- 
haves as  her  ancestors  behaved  before  her, 
even  though  the  ancient  custom  happen  to 
be  unprofitable.  Like  the  Yellow-winged 
Sphex,  whom  I  have  teased  so  often  during 
her  cellaring-operations,  she  is  a  narrow  con- 
servative, learning  nothing  and  forgetting 
nothing. 

Let  us  leave  her  to  do  her  work  in  peace. 
The  Locust  disappears  underground  and  the 
egg  is  laid  upon  the  breast  of  the  paralysed 
insect.  That  is  all:  one  carcase  for  each 
cell,  no  more.  The  entrance  is  stopped  at 
last,  first  with  stones,  which  will  prevent  the 
trickling  of  the  embankment  into  the  cham- 
ber; next  with  sweepings  of  dust,  under 
which  every  vestige  of  the  subterranean 
house  disappears.  It  is  now  done:  the 
131 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Tachytes  will  come  here  no  more.  Other 
burrows  will  occupy  her,  distributed  at  the 
whim  of  her  vagabond  humour. 

A  cell  provisioned  before  my  eyes  on  the 
22nd  of  August,  in  one  of  the  walls  in  the 
harmas?  contained  the  finished  cocoon  a 
week  later.  I  have  not  noted  many  exam- 
ples of  so  rapid  a  development.  This  co- 
coon recalls,  in  its  shape  and  texture,  that  of 
the  Bembex-wasps.  It  is  hard  and  miner- 
alized, this  is  to  say,  the  warp  and  woof  of 
silk  are  hidden  by  a  thick  encrustation  of 
sand.  This  composite  structure  seems  to 
me  characteristic  of  the  family;  at  all  events 
I  find  it  in  the  three  species  whose  cocoons 
I  know.  If  the  Tachytes  are  nearly  related 
to  the  Spheges  in  diet,  they  are  far  removed 
from  them  in  the  industry  of  their  larvae. 
The  first  are  workers  in  mosaic,  encrusting 
a  network  of  silk  and  sand;  the  second  weave 
pure  silk. 

Of  smaller  size  and  clad  in  black  with 
trimmings  of  silvery  down  on  the  edge  of 
the  abdominal  segments,  the  Tarsal  Tachy- 
tes (T.  tarsina,  LEP.)  2  frequents  the 

1  The  harmas  was  the  piece,  of  enclosed  waste  land  in 
which  the  author  used  to  study  his  insects  in  their  nat- 
ural state.  Cf.  The  Life  of  the  Fly,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre, 
translated  by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos:  chap.  i. — • 
Translator's  Note. 

*  According  to  M.  J,  Perez,  to  whom  I  submitted  the 
132 


The  Tachytes 

ledges  of  soft  limestone  in  fairly  populous 
coloniesi  August  and  September  are  the 
season  of  her  labours.  Her  burrows,  very 
close  to  one  another  when  an  easily-worked 
vein  presents  itself,  afford  an  ample  harvest 
of  cocoons  once  the  site  is  discovered.  In  a 
certain  gravel-pit  in  the  neighbourhood,  with 
vertical  walls  visited  by  the  sun,  I  have  been 
able  within  a  short  space  of  time  to  collect 
enough  to  fill  the  hollow  of  my  hand  com- 
pletely. They  differ  from  the  cocoons  of 
the  preceding  species  only  in  their  smaller 
size.  The  provisions  consist  of  young 
Acridians,  varying  from  about  a  quarter  to 
half  an  inch  in  length.  The  adult  insect  does 
not  appear  in  the  assorted  bags  of  game, 
being  no  doubt  too  tough  for  the  feeble 
grub.  All  the  carcases  consist  of  Locust- 
larvae,  whose  budding  wings  leave  the  back 
uncovered  and  put  one  in  mind  of  the  short 
skirts  of  a  skimpy  jacket.  Small  so  that  it 
may  be  tender,  the  game  is  numerous  so  that 
it  may  suffice  all  needs.  I  count  from  two 

Wasp  of  which  I  am  about  to  speak,  this  Tachytes  might 
well  be  a  new  species,  if  it  is  not  Lepelletier's  T.  tarsina 
or  its  equivalent,  Panzer's  T.  unicolor.  Any  one  wish- 
ing to  clear  up  this  point  will  always  recognize  the 
quarrelsome  insect  by  its  behaviour.  A  minute  descrip- 
tion seems  useless  to  me  in  the  type  of  investigation  which 
I  am  pursuing. —  Author's  Note. 

133 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  four  carcases  to  a  cell.  When  the  time 
comes  we  will  discover  the  reason  for  these 
differences  in  the  rations  served. 

The  Mantis-killing  Tachytes  l  wears  a  red 
scarf,  like  her  kinswoman,  Panzer's  Tach- 
ytes. I  do  not  think  that  she  is  very 
widely  distributed.  I  made  her  acquaintance 
in  the  Serignan  woods,  where  she  inhabits, 
or  rather  used  to  inhabit  —  for  I  fear  that 
I  have  depopulated  and  even  destroyed  the 
community  by  my  repeated  excavations  — 
where  she  used  to  inhabit  one  of  those  little 
mounds  of  sand  which  the  wind  heaps  up 
against  the  rosemary  clumps.  Outside  this 
small  community,  I  never  saw  her  again. 
Her  history,  rich  in  incident,  will  be  given 
with  all  the  detail  which  it  deserves.  I  will 

1  The  Mantis-hunting  Tachytes  was  submitted  to  ex- 
amination by  M.  J.  Perez,  who  failed  to  recognize  her. 
This  species  may  well  be  new  to  our  fauna.  I  confine 
myself  to  calling  her  the  Mantis-killing  Tachytes  and 
leave  to  the  specialists  the  task  of  adorning  her  with  a 
Latin  name,  if  it  be  really  the  fact  that  the  Wasp  is  not 
yet  catalogued.  I  will  be  brief  in  my  delineation.  To 
my  thinking  the  best  description  is  this:  mantis-hunter. 
With  this  information  it  is  impossible  to  mistake  the 
insect,  in  my  district  of  course.  I  may  add  that  it  is 
black,  with  the  first  two  abdominal  segments,  the  legs 
and  the  tarsi  a  rusty  red.  Clad  in  the  same  livery  and 
much  smaller  than  the  female,  the  male  is  remarkable  for 
his  eyes,  which  are  of  a  beautiful  lemon-yellow  when  he 
is  alive.  The  length  is  nearly  half  an  inch  for  the  fe- 
male and  a  little  more  than  half  this  for  the  male. — 
Author's  Note. 

134 


The  Tachytes 

confine  myself  for  the  moment  to  mentioning 
her  rations,  which  consist  of  Mantis-larvae, 
those  of  the  Praying  Mantis  *  predomina- 
ting. My  lists  record  from  three  to  sixteen 
heads  for  each  cell.  Once  again  we  note  a 
great  inequality  of  rations,  the  reason  for 
which  we  must  try  to  discover. 

What  shall  I  say  of  the  Black  Tachytes 
(T.  nigra,  VAN  DER  LIND)  that  I  have 
not  already  said  in  telling  the  story  of  the 
Yellow-winged  Sphex?2  I  have  there  de- 
scribed her  contests  with  the  Sphex,  whose 
burrow  she  seems  to  me  to  have  usurped;  I 
show  her  dragging  along  the  ruts  in  the 
roads  a  paralysed  Cricket,  seized  by  the 
hauling-ropes,  his  antennae;  I  speak  of  her 
hesitations,  which  lead  me  to  suspect  her  for 
a  homeless  vagabond,  and  finally  on  her  sur- 
render of  her  game,  with  which  she  seems 
at  once  satisfied  and  embarrassed.  Save  for 
the  dispute  with  the  Sphex,  an  unique  event 
in  my  records  as  observer,  I  have  seen  all 
the  rest  many  a  time,  but  never  anything 
more.  The  Black  Tachytes,  though  the 
most  frequent  of  all  in  my  neighbourhood, 
remains  a  riddle  to  me.  I  know  nothing 

1  Cf.  The  Life  of  the  Grasshopper:  chaps,  vi.  to  ix. — 
Translator's  Note. 

2  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  iv.  to  vi. —  Translator's 
Note. 

135 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

of  her  dwelling,  her  larvae,  her  cocoons,  her 
family-arrangements.  All  that  I  can  affirm, 
judging  by  the  invariable  nature  of  the  prey 
which  one  sees  her  dragging  along,  is  that 
she  must  feed  her  larva?  on  the  same  non- 
adult  Cricket  that  the  Yellow-winged  Sphex 
chooses  for  hers. 

Is  she  a  poacher,  a  pillager  of  other's 
property,  or  a  genuine  huntress?  My  suspi- 
cions are  persistent,  though  I  know  how 
chary  a  man  should  be  of  suspicions.  At 
one  time  I  had  my  doubts  about  Panzer's 
Tachytes,  whom  I  grudged  a  prey  to  which 
the  White-banded  Sphex  might  have  laid 
claim.  To-day  I  have  no  such  doubts:  she 
is  an  honest  worker  and  her  game  is  really 
the  result  of  her  hunting.  While  waiting 
for  the  truth  to  be  revealed  and  my  suspi- 
cions set  aside,  I  will  complete  the  little  that 
I  know  of  her  by  noting  that  the  Black 
Tachytes  passes  the  winter  in  the  adult  form 
and  away  from  her  cell.  She  hibernates, 
like  the  Hairy  Ammophila.  In  warm,  shel- 
tered places,  with  low,  perpendicular,  bare 
banks,  dear  to  the  Wasps,  I  am  certain  of 
finding  her  at  any  time  during  the  winter, 
however  briefly  I  investigate  the  earthen 
surface,  riddled  with  galleries.  I  find  the 
Tachytes  cowering  singly  in  the  hot  oven 
136 


The  Tachytes 

formed  by  the  end  of  a  tunnel.  If  the  tem- 
perature be  mild  and  the  "sky  clear,  she 
emerges  from  her  retreat  in  January  and 
February  and  comes  to  the  surface  of  the 
bank  to  see  whether  spring  is  making  pro- 
gress. When  the  shadows  fall  and  the  heat 
decreases,  she  reenters  her  winter-quarters. 

The  Anathema  Tachytes  (T.  anathema, 
VAN  DER  LIND),  the  giant  of  her  race, 
almost  as  large  as  the  Languedocian  Sphex 
and,  like  her,  decorated  with  a  red  scarf 
round  the  base  of  the  abdomen,  is  rarer  than 
any  of  her  congeners.  I  have  come  upon 
her  only  some  four  or  five  times,  as  an  iso- 
lated individual  and  always  in  circumstances 
which  will  tell  us  of  the  nature  of  her  game 
with  a  probability  that  comes  very  near  to 
certainty.  She  hunts  underground,  like  the 
Scoliae.  In  September  I  see  her  go  down 
into  the  soil,  which  has  been  loosened  by  a 
recent  light  shower;  the  movement  of  the 
earth  turned  over  keeps  me  informed  of  her 
subterranean  progress.  She  is  like  the 
Mole,  ploughing  through  a  meadow  in  pur- 
suit of  his  White  Worm.  She  comes  out 
farther  on,  nearly  a  yard  from  the  spot  at 
which  she  went  in.  This  long  journey  un- 
derground has  taken  her  only  a  few  minutes. 

Is  this  due  to  extraordinary  powers  of 
137 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

excavation  on  her  part?  By  no  means:  the 
Anathema  Tachytes  is  an  energetic  tunneller, 
no  doubt,  but,  after  all,  is  incapable  of  per- 
forming so  great  a  labour  in  so  short  a  time. 
If  the  underground  worker  is  so  swift  in  her 
progress,  it  is  because  the  track  followed  has 
already  been  covered  by  another.  The  trail 
is  ready  prepared.  We  will  describe  it,  for 
it  is  clearly  defined  before  the  intervention 
of  the  Wasp. 

On  the  surface  of  the  ground,  for  a  length 
of  two  paces  at  most,  runs  a  sinuous  line,  a 
beading  of  crumbled  soil,  roughly  the  width 
of  my  finger.  From  this  line  of  ramifications 
shoot  out  to  left  and  right,  much  shorter 
and  irregularly  distributed.  One  need  not 
be  a  great  entomological  scholar  to  recog- 
nize, at  the  first  glance,  in  these  pads  of 
raised  earth,  the  trail  of  a  Mole-cricket,  the 
Mole  among  insects.  It  is  the  Mole-cricket 
who,  seeking  for  a  root  to  suit  her,  has  ex- 
cavated the  winding  tunnel,  with  investiga- 
tion-galleries grafted  to  either  side  of  the 
main  road.  The  passage  is  free  therefore, 
or  at  most  blocked  by  a  few  landslips,  of 
which  the  Tachytes  will  easily  dispose.  This 
explains  her  rapid  journey  underground. 

But  what  does  she  do  there?  For  she  is 
always  there,  in  the  few  observations  which 
138 


The  Tachytes 

chance  affords  me.  A  subterranean  excur- 
sion would  not  attract  the  Wasp  if  it  had  no 
object.  And  its  object  is  certainly  the 
search  for  some  sort  of  game  for  her  larvae. 
The  inference  becomes  inevitable :  the  Ana- 
thema Tachytes,  who  explores  the  Mole- 
cricket's  galleries,  gives  her  larvae  this  same 
Mole-cricket  as  their  food.  Very  probably 
the  specimen  selected  is  a  young  one,  for  the 
adult  insect  would  be  too  big.  Besides,  to 
this  consideration  of  quantity  is  added  that 
of  quality.  Young  and  tender  flesh  is  highly 
appreciated,  as  witness  the  Tarsal  Tachytes, 
the  Black  Tachytes  and  the  Mantis-killing 
Tachytes,  who  all  three  select  game  that  is 
not  yet  made  tough  by  age.  It  goes  without 
saying  that  the  moment  the  huntress  emerged 
from  the  ground  I  proceeded  to  dig  up  the 
track.  The  Mole-cricket  was  no  longer 
there.  The  Tachytes  had  come  too  late; 
and  so  had  I. 

Well,  how  right  was  I  to  define  the  Tach- 
ytes as  a  Locust  lover!  What  constancy 
in  the  gastronomic  rules  of  the  race!  And 
what  tact  in  varying  the  game,  while  keeping 
within  the  order  of  the  Orthoptera !  What 
have  the  Locust,  the  Cricket,  the  Praying 
Mantis  and  the  Mole-cricket  in  common,  as 
regards  their  general  appearance?  Why, 
139 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

absolutely  nothing!  None  of  us,  if  he 
were  unfamiliar  with  the  delicate  associations 
dictated  by  anatomy,  would  think  of  classing 
them  together.  The  Tachytes,  on  the  other 
hand,  makes  no  mistake.  Guided  by  her  in- 
stinct, which  rivals  the  science  of  a  Latreille,1 
she  groups  them  all  together. 

This  instinctive  taxonomy  becomes  more 
surprising  still  if  we  consider  the  variety  of 
the  game  stored  in  a  single  burrow.  The 
Mantis-killing  Tachytes,  for  instance,  preys 
indiscriminately  upon  all  the  Mantides  that 
occur  in  her  neighbourhood.  I  see  her  ware- 
housing three  of  them,  the  only  varieties,  in 
fact,  that  I  know  in  my  district.  They  are 
the  following:  the  Praying  Mantis  (M.  re- 
ligiosa,  LIN.),  the  Grey  Mantis2  (Ameles 
decolor,  CHARP.)  and  the  Empusa  3  (E. 
pauperata,  LATR.).  The  numerical  pre- 
dominance in  the  Tachytes'  cells  belongs  to 
the  Praying  Mantis;  and  the  Grey  Mantis 
occupies  second  place.  The  Empusa,  who 
is  comparatively  rare  on  the  brushwood  in 
the  neighbourhood,  is  also  rare  in  the  store- 

1  Pierre  Andre  Latreille  (1762-1833),  one  of  the  found- 
ers  of   entomological    science,    a    professor    at    the    Musee 
d'histoire    naturelle    and    member    of    the    Academic    des 
sciences. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  Cf.     The  Life  of  the  Grasshopper:  chap.  x. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

3  Cf.  idem:  chap.  ix. —  Translator's  Note. 

140 


The  Tachytes 

houses  of  the  Wasp;  nevertheless  her  pre- 
sence is  repeated  often  enough  to  show  that 
the  huntress  appreciates  the  value  of  this 
prey  when  she  comes  across  it.  The  three 
sorts  of  game  are  in  the  larval  state,  with 
rudimentary  wings.  Their  dimensions, 
which  vary  a  good  deal,  fluctuate  between 
two-fifths  and  four-fifths  of  an  inch  in 
length. 

The  Praying  Mantis  is  a  bright  green; 
she  boasts  an  elongated  prothorax  and  an 
alert  gait.  The  other  Mantis  is  ash-grey. 
Her  prothorax  is  short  and  her  movements 
heavy.  The  coloration  therefore  is  no  guide 
to  the  huntress,  any  more  than  the  gait. 
The  green  and  the  grey,  the  swift  and  the 
slow  are  unable  to  baffle  her  perspicacity. 
To  her,  despite  the  great  difference  in  ap- 
pearance, the  two  victims  are  Mantes.  And 
she  is  right. 

But  what  are  we  to  say  of  the  Empusa? 
The  insect  world,  at  all  events  in  our  parts, 
contains  no  more  fantastic  creature.  The 
children  here,  who  are  remarkable  for  find- 
ing names  which  really  depict  the  animal, 
call  the  larva  "  the  Devilkin."  It  is  indeed 
a  spectre,  a  diabolical  phantom  worthy  of 
the  pencil  of  a  Callot.1  There  is  nothing 

1  Jacques  Callot  (1592-1635),  the  French  engraver  and 
141 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  beat  it  in  the  extravagant  medley  of  fi- 
gures in  his  Temptation  of  Saint  Anthony. 
Its  flat  abdomen,  scalloped  at  the  edges, 
rises  into  a  twisted  crook;  its  peaked  head 
carries  on  the  top  two  large,  divergent,  tusk- 
shaped  horns;  its  sharp,  pointed  face,  which 
can  turn  and  look  to  either  side,  would  fit 
the  wily  purpose  of  some  Mephistopheles; 
its  long  legs  have  cleaver-like  appendages  at 
the  joints,  similar  to  the  arm-pieces  which 
the  knights  of  old  used  to  bear  upon  their 
elbows.  Perched  high  upon  the  shanks  of 
its  four  hind-legs,  with  its  abdomen  curled, 
its  thorax  raised  erect,  its  fore-legs,  the  traps 
and  implements  of  warfare,  folded  against 
its  chest,  it  sways  limply  from  side  to  side, 
on  the  tip  of  a  bough. 

Any  one  seeing  it  for  the  first  time  in  its 
grotesque  pose  will  give  a  start  of  surprise. 
The  Tachytes  knows  no  such  alarm.  If  she 
catches  sight  of  it,  she  seizes  it  by  the  neck 
and  stabs  it.  It  will  be  a  treat  for  her  child- 
ren. How  does  she  manage  to  recognize 
in  this  spectre  the  near  relation  of  the  Pray- 
ing Mantis?  When  frequent  hunting-expe- 
ditions have  familiarized  her  with  the  last- 
named  and  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the 

painter,  famous  for  the  grotesque  nature  of  his  subjects. — 
Translator's  Note. 

142 


The  Tachytes 

chase,  she  encounters  the  Devilkin,  how  does 
she  become  aware  that  this  strange  find 
makes  yet  another  excellent  addition  to  her 
larder?  This  question,  I  fear,  will  never 
receive  an  adequate  reply.  Other  huntresses 
have  already  set  us  the  problem;  others  will 
set  it  to  us  again.  I  shall  return  to  it,  not 
to  solve  it,  but  to  show  even  more  plainly 
how  obscure  and  profound  it  is.  But  we 
will  first  complete  the  story  of  the  Mantis- 
killing  Tachytes. 

The  colony  which  forms  the  subject  of 
my  investigations  is  established  in  a  mound 
of  fine  sand  which  I  myself  cut  into,  a  couple 
of  years  ago,  in  order  to  unearth  a  few 
Bembex  larvae.  The  entrances  to  the  Tach- 
ytes' dwelling  open  upon  the  little  upright 
bank  of  the  section.  At  the  beginning  of 
July  the  work  is  in  full  swing.  It  must  have 
been  going  on  already  for  a  week  or  two, 
for  I  find  very  forward  larvae,  as  well  as 
recent  cocoons.  There  are  here,  digging 
into  the  sand  or  returning  from  expeditions 
with  their  booty,  some  hundred  females, 
whose  burrows,  all  very  close  to  one  an- 
other, cover  an  area  of  barely  a  square  yard. 
This  hamlet,  small  in  extent,  but  neverthe- 
less densely  populated,  shows  us  the  Mantis- 
slayer  under  a  moral  aspect  which  is  not 
143 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

shared  by.  the  Locust  slayer,  Panzer's  Tach- 
ytes,  who,  resembles  her  so  closely  in  cos- 
tume. Though  engaged  in  individual  tasks, 
the  first  seeks  the  society  of  her  kind,  as  do 
certain  of  the  Sphex-wasps,  while  the  second 
establishes  herself  in  solitude,  after  the 
fashion  of  the  Ammophila.  Neither  the 
personal  form  nor  the  nature  of  the  occupa- 
tion determines  sociability. 

Crouching  voluptuously  in  the  sun,  on  the 
sand  at  the  foot  of  the  bank,  the  males  lie 
waiting  for  the  females,  to  plague  them  as 
they  pass.  They  are  ardent  lovers,  but  cut 
a  poor  figure.  Their  linear  dimensions  are 
barely  half  those  of  the  other  sex,  which  im- 
plies a  volume  only  one-eighth  as  great.  At 
a  short  distance  they  appear  to  wear  on  their 
heads  a  sort  of  gaudy  turban.  At  close 
quarters  this  headgear  is  seen  to  consist  of 
the  eyes,  which  are  very  large  and  a  bright 
lemon-yellow  and  which  almost  entirely  sur- 
round the  head. 

At  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  the 
heat  begins  to  grow  intolerable  to  the  ob- 
server, there  is  a  continual  coming  and  going 
between  the  burrows  and  the  tufts  of  grass, 
everlasting,  thyme  and  wormwood,  which 
constitute  the  Tachytes'  hunting-grounds 
within  a  moderate  radius.  The  journey  is  so 
144 


The  Tachytes 

short  that  the  Wasp  brings  her  game  home 
on  the  wing,  usually  in  a  single  flight.  She 
holds  it  by  the  fore-part,  a  very  judicious 
precaution,  which  is  favourable  to  rapid 
stowage  in  the  warehouse,  for  then  the 
Mantis'  legs  stretch  backwards,  along  the 
axis  of  the  body,  instead  of  folding  and  pro- 
jecting sideways,  when  their  resistance  would 
be  difficult  to  overcome  in  a  narrow  gallery. 
The  lanky  prey  dangles  beneath  the  huntress, 
all  limp,  lifeless  and  paralysed.  The  Tach- 
ytes, still  flyng,  alights  on  the  threshold 
of  the  home  and  immediately,  contrary  to 
the  custom  of  Panzer's  Tachytes,  enters  with 
her  prey  trailing  behind  her.  It  is  not  un- 
usual for  a  male  to  come  upon  the  scene  at 
the  moment  of  the  mother's  arrival.  He  is 
promptly  snubbed.  This  is  the  time  for 
work,  not  for  amusement.  The  rebuffed 
male  resumes  his  post  as  a  watcher  in  the 
sun;  and  the  housewife  stows  her  provisions. 
But  she  does  not  always  do  so  without 
hindrance.  Let  me  recount  one  of  the  mis- 
adventures of  this  work  of  storage.  There 
is  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  burrows  a 
plant  which  catches  insects  with  glue.  It  is 
the  Oporto  silene  (S.  portensis),  a  curious 
growth,  a  lover  of  the  sea-side  dunes,  which, 
though  of  Portuguese  origin,  as  its  name 
i45 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

would  seem  to  indicate,  ventures  inland, 
even  as  far  as  my  part  of  the  country,  where 
it  represents  perhaps  a  survivor  of  the 
coastal  flora  of  what  was  once  a  Pliocene 
sea.  The  sea  has  disappeared;  a  few  plants 
of  its  shores  have  remained  behind. 
This  Silene  carries  in  most  of  its  internodes, 
in  those  both  of  the  branches  and  of  the 
main  stalk,  a  viscous  ring,  two-  to  four-fifths 
of  an  inch  wide,  sharply  delimited  above 
and  below.  The  coating  of  glue  is  of  a 
pale  brown.  Its  stickiness  is  so  great  that 
the  least  touch  is  enough  to  hold  the  object. 
I  find  Midges,  Plant-lice  and  Ants  caught  in 
it,  as  well  as  tufted  seeds  which  have  blown 
from  the  capitula  of  the  Cichoriaceae.  A 
Gad-fly,  as  big  as  a  Bluebottle,  falls  into  the 
trap  before  my  eyes.  She  has  barely 
alighted  on  the  perilous  perch  when  lo,  she 
is  held  by  the  hinder  tarsi !  The  Fly  makes 
violent  efforts  to  take  wing;  she  shakes  the 
slender  plant  from  top  to  bottom.  If  she 
frees  her  hinder  tarsi  she  remains  snared  by 
the  front  tarsi  and  has  to  begin  all  over 
again.  I  was  doubting  the  possibility  of  her 
escape  when,  after  a  good  quarter  of  an 
hour's  struggle,  she  succeeded  in  extricating 
herself. 

But,  where  the  Gad-fly  has  got  off,  the 


The  Tachytes 

Midge  remains.  The  winged  Aphis  also  re- 
mains, the  Ant,  the  Mosquito  and  many  an- 
other of  the  smaller  insects.  What  does  the 
plant  do  with  its  captures?  Of  what  use 
are  these  trophies  of  corpses  hanging  by  a 
leg  or  a  wing?  Does  the  vegetable  bird- 
limer,  with  its  sticky  rings,  derive  advantage 
from  these  death-struggles?  A  Darwinian, 
remembering  the  carnivorous  plants,  would 
say  yes.  As  for  me,  I  don't  believe  a  word 
of  it.  The  Oporto  silene  is  ringed  with 
bands  of  gum.  Why?  I  don't  know.  In- 
sects are  caught  in  these  snares.  Of  what 
use  are  they  to  the  plant?  Why,  none  at 
all;  and  that's  all  about  it.  I  leave  to 
others,  bolder  than  myself,  the  fantastic  idea 
of  taking  these  annular  exudations  for  a  di- 
gestive fluid  which  will  reduce  the  captured 
Midges  to  soup  and  make  them  serve  to 
feed  the  Silene.  Only  I  warn  them  that  the 
insects  sticking  to  the  plant  do  not  dissolve 
into  broth,  but  shrivel,  quite  uselessly,  in  the 
sun. 

Let  us  return  to  the  Tachytes,  who  is  also 
a  victim  of  the  vegetable  snare.  With  a 
sudden  flight,  a  huntress  arrives,  carrying  her 
drooping  prey.  She  grazes  the  Silene's  lime- 
twigs  too  closely.  Behold  the  Mantis  caught 
by  the  abdomen.  For  twenty  minutes  at 
147 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

least  the  Wasp,  still  on  the  wing,  tugs  at  her, 
tugging  again  and  again,  to  overcome  the 
cause  of  the  hitch  and  release  the  spoil. 
The  hauling-method,  a  continuation  of  the 
flight,  comes  to  nothing;  and  no  other  is  at- 
tempted. At  last  the  insect  wearies  and 
leaves  the  Mantis  hanging  to  the  Silene. 

Now  or  never  was  the  moment  for  the 
intervention  of  that  tiny  glimmer  of  reason 
which  Darwin  so  generously  grants  to  ani- 
mals. Do  not,  if  you  please,  confound  rea- 
son with  intelligence,  as  people  are  too  prone 
to  do.  I  deny  the  one;  and  the  other  is  in- 
contestable, within  very  modest  limits.  It 
was,  I  said,  the  moment  to  reason  a  little, 
to  discover  the  cause  of  the  hitch  and  to  at- 
tack the  difficulty  at  its  source.  For  the 
Tachytes  the  matter  was  of  the  simplest. 
She  had  but  to  grab  the  body  by  the  skin 
of  the  abdomen  immediately  above  the  spot 
caught  by  the  glue  and  to  pull  it  towards  her, 
instead  of  persevering  in  her  flight  without 
releasing  the  neck.  Simple  though  this  me- 
chanical problem  was,  the  insect  was  unable 
to  solve  it,  because  she  was  not  able  to  trace 
the  effect  back  to  the  cause,  because  she  did 
not  even  suspect  that  the  stoppage  had  a 
cause. 

Ants  doting  on  sugar  and  accustomed  to 
148 


The  Tachytes 

cross  a  foot-bridge  in  order  to  reach  the 
warehouse  are  absolutely  prevented  from 
doing  so  when  the  bridge  is  interrupted  by  a 
slight  gap.  They  would  only  need  a  few 
grains  of  sand  to  fill  the  void  and  restore 
the  causeway.  They  do  not  for  a  moment 
dream  of  it,  plucky  navvies  though  they  be, 
capable  of  raising  miniature  mountains  of 
excavated  soil.  We  can  get  them  to  give 
us  an  enormous  cone  of  earth,  an  instinctive 
piece  of  work,  but  we  shall  never  obtain  the 
juxtaposition  of  three  grains  of  sand,  a  rea- 
soned piece  of  work.  The  Ant  does  not 
reason,  any  more  than  the  Tachytes. 

If  you  bring  up  a  tame  Fox  and  set  his 
platter  of  food  before  him,  this  creature  of 
a  thousand  tricks  confines  himself  to  tugging 
v/ith  all  his  might  at  the  leash  which  keeps 
him  a  step  or  two  from  his  dinner.  He  pulls 
as  the  Tachytes  pulls,  exhausts  himself  in 
futile  efforts  and  then  lies  down,  with  his 
little  eyes  leering  fixedly  at  the  dish.  Why 
does  he  not  turn  round?  This  would  in- 
crease his  radius;  and  he  could  reach  then 
the  food  with  his  hind-foot  and  pull  it  to- 
wards him.  The  idea  never  occurs  to  him. 
Yet  another  animal  deprived  of  reason. 

Friend  Bull,  my  Dog,  is  no  better-en- 
dowed, despite  his  quality  as  a  candidate  for 
149 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

humanity.  In  our  excursions  through  the 
woods,  he  happens  to  get  caught  by  the  paw 
in  a  wire  snare  set  for  rabbits.  Like  the 
Tachytes,  he  tugs  at  it  obstinately  and  only 
pulls  the  noose  tighter.  I  have  to  release 
him  when  he  does  not  himself  succeed  in 
snapping  the  wire  by  his  hard  pulling. 
When  he  tries  to  leave  the  room,  if  the  two 
leaves  of  the  door  are  just  ajar,  he  contents 
himself  with  pushing  his  muzzle,  like  a 
wedge,  into  the  too  narrow  aperture.  He 
moves  forward,  pushing  in  the  direction 
which  he  wishes  to  take.  His  simple,  dog- 
like  method  has  one  unfailing  result:  the 
two  leaves  of  the  door,  when  pushed,  merely 
shut  still  closer.  It  would  be  easy  for  him 
to  pull  one  of  them  towards  him  with  his 
paw,  which  would  make  the  passage  wider; 
but  this  would  be  a  movement  backward, 
contrary  to  his  natural  impulse;  and  so  he 
does  not  think  of  it.  Yet  another  creature 
that  does  not  reason. 

The  Tachytes,  who  stubbornly  persists  in 
tugging  at  her  limed  Mantis  and  refuses 
to  acknowledge  any  other  method  of  wrest- 
ing her  from  the  Silene's  snare,  shows  us 
the  Wasp  in  an  unflattering  light.  What 
a  very  poor  intellect!  The  insect  becomes 
only  the  more  wonderful,  therefore,  when  we 
150 


The  Tachytes 

consider  its  supreme  .talent  as  an  anatomist. 
Many  a  time  I  have  insisted  upon  the  incom- 
prehensible wisdom  of  instinct;  I  do  so  again 
at  the  risk  of  repeating  myself.  .An  idea 
is  like  a  nail:  it  is  not  to  be  driven  in  save 
by  repeated  blows.  By  hitting  it  again  and 
again,  I  hope  to  make  it  enter  the  most  re- 
bellious brains.  This  time  I  shall  attack 
the  problem  from  the  other  end,  that  is,  I 
shall  first  allow  human  knowledge  to  have 
its  say  and  shall  then  interrogate  the  insect's 
knowledge. 

The  outward  structure  of  the  Praying 
Mantis  would  of  itself  be  enough  to  teach 
us  the  arrangement  of  the  nerve-centres 
which  the  Tachytes  has  to  injure  in  order  to 
paralyse  its  victim,  which  is  destined  to  be 
devoured  alive  but  harmless.  A  narrow  and 
very  long  prothorax  divides  the  front  pair 
of  legs  from  the  two  hinder  pairs.  There 
must  therefore  be  an  isolated  ganglion  in 
front  and  two  ganglia,  close  to  each  other, 
about  two-fifths  of  an  inch  back.  Dissec- 
tion confirms  this  forecast  completely.  It 
shows  us  three  fairly  bulky  thoracic  ganglia, 
arranged  in  the  same  manner  as  the  legs. 
The  first  which  actuates  the  fore-legs,  is 
placed  opposite  their  roots.  It  is  the  largest 
of  the  three.  It  is  also  the  most  important, 
151 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

for  it  presides  over  the  insect's  weapons, 
over  the  two  powerful  arms,  toothed  like 
saws  and  ending  in  harpoons.  The  other 
two,  divided  from  the  first  by  the  whole 
length  of  the  prothorax,  each  face  the  origin 
of  the  corresponding  legs;  consequently  they 
are  very  near  each  other.  Beyond  them  are 
the  abdominal  ganglia,  which  I  pass  over  in 
silence,  as  the  operating  insect  does  not  have 
to  trouble  about  them.  The  movements  of 
the  belly  are  mere  pulsations  and  are  in  no 
way  dangerous. 

Now  let  us  do  a  little  reasoning  on  behalf 
of  our  non-reasoning  insect.  The  sacrificer 
is  weak;  the  victim  is  comparatively  power- 
ful. Three  strokes  of  the  lancet  must 
abolish  all  offensive  movement.  Where  will 
the  first  stroke  be  delivered?  In  front  is  a 
real  engine  of  warfare,  a  pair  of  powerful 
shears  with  toothed  jaws.  Let  the  fore-arm 
close  upon  the  upper  arm;  and  the  impru- 
dent insect,  crushed  between  the  two  saw- 
blades,  will  be  torn  to  pieces;  wounded  by 
the  terminal  hook,  it  will  be  eviscerated. 
This  ferocious  mechanism  is  the  great  dan- 
ger; it  is  this  that  must  be  mastered  at  the 
outset,  at  the  risk  of  life;  the  rest  is  less 
urgent.  The  first  blow  of  the  stylet,  cau- 
tiously directed,  is  therefore  aimed  at  the 
152 


The  Tachytes 

lethal  fore-legs,  which  imperil  the  vivisec- 
tor's  own  existence.  Above  all,  there  must 
be  no  hesitation.  The  blow  must  be  ac- 
curate then  and  there,  or  the  sacrificer  will 
be  caught  in  the  vice  and  perish.  The  two 
other  pairs  of  legs  present  no  danger  to  the 
operator,  who  might  neglect  them  if  she  had 
only  her  own  security  to  think  of;  but  the 
surgeon  is  operating  with  a  view  to  the  egg, 
which  demands  complete  immobility  in  the 
provisions.  Their  centres  of  innervation 
will  therefore  be  stabbed  as  well,  with  the 
leisure  which  the  Mantis,  now  put  out  of 
action,  permits.  These  legs,  as  well  as  their 
nervous  centres,  are  situated  very  far  behind 
the  first  point  attacked.  There  is  a  long 
neutral  interval,  that  of  the  prothorax,  into 
which  it  is  quite  useless  to  drive  the  sting. 
This  interval  has  to  be  crossed;  by  a  back- 
ward movement  conforming  with  the  secrets 
of  the  victim's  internal  anatomy,  the  second 
ganglion  must  be  reached  and  then  its  neigh- 
bour, the  third.  In  short,  the  surgical  op- 
eration may  be  formulated  thus :  a  first  stab 
of  the  lancet  in  front;  a  considerable  move- 
ment to  the  rear,  measuring  about  two-fifths 
of  an  inch;  lastly,  two  lancet-thrusts  at  two 
points  very  close  together.  Thus  speaks  the 
science  of  man;  thus  counsels  reason,  guided 
153 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

by  anatomical  structure.  Having  said  this 
much  let  us  observe  the  insect's  practice. 

There  is  no  difficulty  about  seeing  the 
Tachytes  operate  in  our  presence;  we  have 
only  to  resort  to  the  method  of  substitution, 
which  has  already  done  me  so  much  service, 
that  is,  to  deprive  the  huntress  of  her  prey 
and  at  once  to  give  her,  in  exchange,  a  living 
Mantis  of  about  the  same  size.  This  sub- 
stitution is  impracticable  with  the  majority 
of  the  Tachytes,  who  reach  the  threshold  of 
their  dwelling  in  a  single  flight  and  at  once 
vanish  underground  with  their  game.  A 
few  of  them,  from  time  to  time,  harassed 
perhaps  by  their  burden,  chance  to  alight 
at  a  short  distance  from  their  burrow,  or 
even  drop  their  prey.  I  profit  by  these  rare 
occasions  to  witness  the  tragedy. 

The  dispossessed  Wasp  recognizes  in- 
stantly, from  the  proud  bearing  of  the  sub- 
stituted Mantis,  that  she  is  no  longer  em- 
bracing and  carrying  off  an  inoffensive  car- 
case. Her  hovering,  hitherto  silent,  de- 
velops a  buzz,  perhaps  to  overawe  the  vic- 
tim; her  flight  becomes  an  extremely  rapid 
oscillation,  always  behind  the  quarry.  It  is 
as  who  should  say  the  quick  movement  of  a 
pendulum  swinging  without  a  wire  to  hang 
from.  The  Mantis,  however,  lifts  herself 
154 


The  Tachytes 

boldly  upon  her  four  hind-legs;  she  raises  the 
fore-part  of  her  body,  opens,  closes  and 
again  opens  her  shears  and  presents  them 
threateningly  at  the  enemy;  using  a  privilege 
which  no  other  insect  shares,  she  turns  her 
head  this  way  and  that,  as  we  do  when  we 
look  over  our  shoulders;  she  faces  her  as- 
sailant, ready  to  strike  a  return  blow  where- 
soever the  attack  may  come.  It  is  the  first 
time  that  I  have  witnessed  such  defensive 
daring.  What  will  be  the  outcome  of  it  all? 
The  Wasp  continues  to  oscillate  behind 
the  Mantis,  in  order  to  avoid  the  formidable 
grappling-engine ;  then,  suddenly,  when  she 
judges  that  the  other  is  baffled  by  the  rapid- 
ity of  her  manoeuvres,  she  hurls  herself  upon 
the  insect's  back,  seizes  its  neck  with  her 
mandibles,  winds  her  legs  round  its  thorax 
and  hastily  delivers  a  first  thrust  of  the 
sting,  to  the  front,  at  the  root  of  the  lethal 
legs.  Complete  success !  The  deadly  shears 
fall  powerless.  The  operator  then  lets  her- 
self slip  as  she  might  slide  down  a  pole, 
retreats  along  the  Mantis'  back  and,  going  a 
trifle  lower,  less  than  a  finger's  breadth,  she 
stops  and  paralyses,  this  time  without  hurry- 
ing herself,  the  two  pairs  of  hind-legs.  It  is 
done:  the  patient  lies  motionless;  only  the 
tarsi  quiver,  twitching  in  their  last  convul- 
i55 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

sions.  The  sacrificer  brushes  her  wings  for 
a  moment  and  polishes  her  antennae  by  pass- 
ing them  through  her  mouth,  an  habitual  sign 
of  tranquillity  returning  after  the  emotions 
of  the  conflict;  she  seizes  the  game  by  the 
neck,  takes  it  in  her  legs  and  flies  away 
with  it. 

What  do  you  say  to  it  all?  Do  not  the 
scientist's  theory  and  the  insect's  practice 
agree  most  admirably?  Has  not  the  ani- 
mal accomplished  to  perfection  what  ana- 
tomy and  physiology  enabled  us  to  foretell? 
Instinct,  a  gratuitous  attribute,  an  uncon- 
scious inspiration,  rivals  knowledge,  that 
most  costly  acquisition.  What  strikes  me 
most  is  the  sudden  recoil  after  the  first 
thrust  of  the  sting.  The  Hairy  Ammophila, 
operating  on  her  caterpillar,  likewise  recoils, 
but  progressively,  from  one  segment  to  the 
next.  Her  deliberate  surgery  might  receive 
a  quasi-explanation  if  we  ascribe  it  to  a  cert- 
ain uniformity.  With  the  Tachytes  and  the 
Mantis  this  paltry  argument  escapes  us. 
Here  are  no  lancet-pricks  regularly  distri- 
buted; on  the  contrary,  the  operating-method 
betrays  a  lack  of  symmetry  which  would  be 
inconceivable,  if  the  organization  of  the  pa- 
tient did  not  serve  as  a  guide.  The 
156 


The  Tachytes 

Tachytes  therefore  knows  where  her  prey's 
nerve-centres  lie;  or,  to  speak  more  cor- 
rectly, she  behaves  as  though  she  knew. 

This  science  which  is  unconscious  of  itself 
has  not  been  acquired,  by  her  and  by  her 
race,  through  experiments  perfected  from 
age  to  age  and  habits  transmitted  from  one 
generation  to  the  next.  It  is  impossible,  I 
am  prepared  to  declare  a  hundred  times,  a 
thousand  times  over,  it  is  absolutely  impos- 
sible to  experiment  and  to  learn  an  art  when 
you  are  lost  if  you  do  not  succeed  at  the  first 
attempt.  Don't  talk  to  me  of  atavism,  of 
small  successes  increasing  by  inheritance, 
when  the  novice,  if  he  misdirected  his 
weapon,  would  be  crushed  in  the  trap  of  the 
two  saws  and  fall  a  prey  to  the  savage  Man- 
tis! The  peaceable  Locust,  if  missed,  pro- 
tests against  the  attack  with  a  few  kicks ;  the 
carnivorous  Mantis,  who  is  in  the  habit  of 
feasting  on  Wasps  far  more  powerful  than 
the  Tachytes,  would  protest  by  eating  the 
bungler;  the  game  would  devour  the  hunter, 
an  excellent  catch.  Mantis-paralysing  is  a 
most  perilous  trade  and  admits  of  no  half- 
successes;  you  have  to  excel  in  it  from  the 
first,  under  pain  of  death.  No,  the  surgical 
art  of  the  Tachytes  is  not  an  acquired  art. 
157 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Whence  then  does  it  come,  if  not  from  the 
universal  knowledge  in  which  all  things  move 
and  have  their  being! 

What  would  happen  if,  in  exchange  for 
her  Praying  Mantis,  I  were  to  give  the 
Tachytes  a  young  Grasshopper?  In  rearing 
insects  at  home,  I  have  already  noted  that 
the  larvae  put  up  very  well  with  this  diet; 
and  I  am  surprised  that  the  mother  does  not 
follow  the  example  of  the  Tarsal  Tachytes 
and  provide  her  family  with  a  skewerful  of 
Locusts  instead  of  the  risky  prey  which  she 
selects.  The  diet  would  be  practically  the 
same;  and  the  terrible  shears  would  no  longer 
be  a  danger.  With  such  a  patient  would 
her  operating-method  remain  the  same; 
should  we  again  see  a  sudden  recoil  after  the 
first  stab  under  the  neck;  or  would  the  vivi- 
sector  modify  her  art  in  conformity  with  the 
unfamiliar  nervous  organization? 

This  second  alternative  is  highly  impro- 
bable. It  would  be  nonsense  to  expect  to  see 
the  paralyser  vary  the  number  and  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  wounds  according  to  the 
genus  of  the  victim.  Supremely  skilled  in 
the  task  that  has  fallen  to  its  lot,  the  insect 
knows  nothing  further. 

The  first  alternative  seems  to  offer  a  cert- 
ain chance  and  deserves  a  test.  I  offer  the 
158 


The  Tachytes 

Tachytes,  deprived  of  her  Mantis,  a  small 
Grasshopper,  whose  hind-legs  I  amputate 
to  prevent  his  leaping.  The  disabled  Acri- 
dian  jogs  along  the  sand.  The  Wasp  flies 
round  him  for  a  moment,  casts  a  contemptu- 
ous glance  upon  the  cripple  and  withdraws 
without  attempting  action.  Let  the  prey  of- 
fered be  large  or  small,  green  or  grey,  short 
or  long,  rather  like  the  Mantis  or  quite  dif- 
ferent, all  my  efforts  miscarry.  The 
Tachytes  recognizes  in  an  instant  that  this 
is  no  business  of  hers;  this  is  not  her  family 
game;  she  goes  off  without  even  honouring 
my  Grasshoppers  with  a  peck  of  her  mandi- 
bles. 

This  stubborn  refusal  is  not  due  to  gas- 
tronomical  causes.  I  have  stated  that  the 
larvae  reared  by  my  own  hands  feed  on 
young  Grasshoppers  as  readily  as  on  young 
Mantes;  they  do  not  seem  to  perceive  any 
difference  between  the  two  dishes;  they 
thrive  equally  on  the  game  chosen  by  me  and 
that  selected  by  the  mother.  If  the  mother 
sets  no  value  on  the  Grasshopper,  what  then 
can  be  the  reason  of  her  refusal?  I  can  see 
only  one :  this  quarry,  which  is  not  hers,  per- 
haps inspires  her  with  fear,  as  any  unknown 
thing  might  do;  the  ferocious  Mantis  does 
not  alarm  her,  but  the  peaceable  Grasshop- 
159 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

per  terrifies  her.  And  then,  if  she  were  to 
overcome  her  apprehensions,  she  does  not 
know  how  to  master  the  Acridian  and,  above 
all,  how  to  operate  upon  him.  To  every 
man  his  trade,  to  every  Wasp  her  own  way 
of  wielding  her  sting.  Modify  the  condi- 
tions ever  so  slightly;  and  these  skilful 
paralysers  are  at  an  utter  loss. 

To  every  insect  also  its  own  art  of  fash- 
ioning the  cocoon,  an  art  which  varies 
greatly,  an  art  in  which  the  larva  displays 
all  the  resources  of  its  instincts.  The 
Tachytes,  the  Bembeces,  the  Stizi,  the  Pa- 
lari  and  other  burrowers  build  composite 
cocoons,  hard  as  fruit-stones,  formed  of  an 
incrustation  of  sand  in  a  net  work  of  silk. 
We  are  already  acquainted  with  the  work 
of  the  Bembex.  I  will  recall  the  fact  that 
their  larva  first  weaves  a  conical,  horizontal 
bag  of  pure  white  silk,  with  wide  meshes, 
held  in  place  by  interlaced  threads  which  fix 
it  to  the  walls  of  the  cell.  I  have  compared 
this  bag,  because  of  its  shape,  with  a  fish- 
trap.  Without  leaving  this  hammock, 
stretching  its  neck  through  the  orifice,  the 
worker  gathers  from  without  a  little  heap  of 
sand,  which  it  stores  inside  its  workshop. 
Then,  selecting  the  grains  one  by  one,  it  en- 
crusts them  all  around  itself  in  the  fabric 
rib 


The  Tachytes 

of  the  bag  and  cements  them  with  the  fluid 
from  its  spinnerets,  which  hardens  at  once. 
When  this  task  is  finished,  the  house  has 
still  to  be  closed,  for  it  has  been  wide  open 
all  this  time  to  permit  of  the  renewal  of  the 
store  of  sand  as  the  heap  inside  becomes 
exhausted.  For  this  purpose  a  cap  of  silk 
is  woven  across  the.  opening  and  finally  en- 
crusted with  the  materials  which  the  larva 
has  retained  at  its  disposal. 

The  Tachytes  builds  in  quite  another  fash- 
ion, although  its  work,  once  finished,  does 
not  differ  from  that  of  the  Bembex.  The 
larva  surrounds  itself,  to  begin  with,  about 
the  middle  of  its  body  with  a  silken  girdle 
which  a  number  of  threads,  very  irregularly 
distributed,  hold  in  place  and  connect  with 
the  walls  of  the  cell.  Sand  is  collected, 
within  reach  of  the  worker,  on  this  general 
scaffolding.  Then  begins  the  work  of  minor 
masonry,  with  grains  of  sand  for  rubble  and 
the  secretion  of  the  spinnerets  for  cement. 
The  first  course  is  laid  upon  the  fore-edge  of 
the  suspensory  ring.  When  the  circle  is 
completed,  a  second  course  of  grains  of  sand, 
stuck  together  by  the  fluid  silk,  is  raised  upon 
the  hardened  edge  of  what  has  just  been 
done.  Thus  the  work  proceeds,  by  ring- 
shaped  courses,  laid  edge  to  edge,  until  the 
161 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

cocoon,  having  acquired  half  of  its  proper 
length,  is  rounded  into  a  cap  and  finally 
is  closed.  The  building-methods  of  the 
Tachytes-larva  remind  me  of  a  mason  con- 
structing a  round  chimney,  a  narrow  tower 
of  which  he  occupies  the  centre.  Turning 
on  his  own  axis  and  using  the  materials 
placed  to  his  hand,  he  encloses  himself  little 
by  little  in  his  sheath  of  masonry.  In  the 
same  way  the  worker  encloses  itself  in  its 
mosaic.  To  build  the  second  half  of  the 
cocoon,  the  larva  turns  round  and  builds  in 
the  same  way  on  the  other  edge  of  the  orig- 
inal ring.  In  about  thirty-six  hours  the 
solid  shell  is  completed. 

I  am  rather  interested  to  see  the  Bembex 
and  the  Tachytes,  two  workers  in  the  same 
guild,  employ  such  different  methods  to 
achieve  the  same  result.  The  first  begins 
by  weaving  an  eel-trap  of  pure  silk  and  next 
encrusts  the  grains  of  sand  inside;  the  sec- 
ond, a  bolder  architect,  is  economical  of  the 
silk  envelope,  confines  itself  to  a  hanging 
girdle  and  builds  course  by  course.  The 
building-materials  are  the  same:  sand  and 
silk;  the  surroundings  amid  which  the  two 
artisans  work  are  the  same :  a  cell  in  a  soil 
of  sandy  gravel;  yet  each  of  the  builders 
162 


The  Tachytes 

possesses  its  individual  art,   its  own  plan, 
its  one  method. 

The  nature  of  the  food  has  no  more  effect 
upon  the  larva's  talents  than  the  environ- 
ment in  which  it  lives  or  the  materials  em- 
ployed. The  proof  of  this  is  furnished  by 
Stiza  ruficornis,  another  builder  of  cocoons 
in  grains  of  sand  cemented  with  silk. 
This  sturdy  Wasp  digs  her  burrows  in  soft 
sandstone.  Like  the  Mantis-killing  Tach- 
ytes, she  hunts  the  various  Mantides  of  the 
countryside,  consisting  mainly  of  the  Praying 
Mantis;  only  her  large  size  requires  them 
to  be  more  fully  developed,  without  however 
having  attained  the  form  and  the  dimensions 
of  the  adult.  She  places  three  to  five  of 
them  in  each  cell. 

In  solidity  and  volume  her  cocoon  rivals 
that  of  the  largest  Bembex;  but  it  differs 
from  it,  at  first  sight,  by  a  singular  feature 
of  which  I  know  no  other  example.  From 
the  side  of  the  shell,  which  is  uniformly 
smoothed  on  every  side,  a  rough  knob  pro- 
trudes, a  little  clod  of  sand  stuck  on  to  the 
rest.  The  work  of  Stizus  ruficornis  can  at 
once  be  recognized,  among  all  the  other  co- 
coons of  a  similar  nature,  by  this  protuber- 
ance. 

163 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Its  origin  will  be  explained  by  the  method 
which  the  larva  follows  in  constructing  its 
strong-box.  At  the  beginning,  a  conical  bag 
is  woven  of  pure  white  silk;  you  might  take 
it  for  the  initial  eel-trap  of  the  Bembeces, 
only  this  bag  has  two  openings,  a  very  wide 
one  in  front  and  another,  very  narrow  one 
at  the  side.  Through  the  front  opening 
the  Stizus  provides  itself  with  sand  as  and 
when  it  spends  this  material  on  encrusting 
the  interior.  This  strengthens  the  cocoon; 
and  the  cap  which  closes  it  is  made  next. 
So  far  it  is  exactly  like  the  work  of  the  Bem- 
bex.  We  now  have  the  worker  enclosed, 
engaged  in  perfecting  the  inner  wall.  For 
these  final  touches  a  little  more  sand  is 
needed.  It  obtains  it  from  outside  by  means 
of  the  aperture  which  it  has  taken  the  pre- 
caution of  contriving  in  the  side  of  its  build- 
ing, a  narrow  dormer-window  just  large 
enough  to  allow  its  slender  neck  to  pass. 
When  the  store  has  been  taken  in,  this  ac- 
cessory orifice,  which  is  used  only  during  the 
last  few  moments,  is  closed  with  a  mouthful 
of  mortar,  thrust  outward  from  within. 
This  forms  the  irregular  nipple  which  pro- 
jects from  the  side  of  the  shell. 

For  the  present  I  shall  not  expatiate  fur- 
ther upon  Stizus  ruficornis,  whose  complete 
164 


The  Tachytes 

biography  would  be  out  of  place  in  this  chap- 
ter. I  will  limit  myself  to  mentioning  its 
method  of  constructing  strong-boxes  in  or- 
der to  compare  it  with  that  of  the  Bembex 
and  above  all  with  that  of  the  Tachytes,  a 
consumer,  like  itself,  of  Praying  Mantes. 
From  this  parallel  it  seems  to  me  to  follow 
that  the  conditions  of  life  in  which  men  see 
to-day  the  origin  of  instincts  —  the  type  of 
food,  the  surroundings  amid  which  the 
larval  life  is  passed,  the  materials  available 
for  a  defensive  wrapper  and  other  factors 
which  the  evolutionists  are  accustomed  to 
invoke  —  have  no  actual  influence  upon  the 
larva's  industry.  My  three  architects  in 
glued  sand,  even  when  all  the  conditions, 
down  to  the  nature  of  the  provisions,  are 
the  same,  adopt  different  means  to  execute 
an  identical  task.  They  are  engineers  who 
have  not  graduated  from  the  same  school, 
who  have  not  been  educated  on  the 
same  principles,  though  the  lesson  of  things 
is  almost  the  same  for  all  of  them. 
The  workshop,  the  work,  the  provisions  have 
not  determined  the  instinct.  The  instinct 
comes  first;  it  lays  down  laws  instead  of  be- 
ing subject  to  them. 


165 


CHAPTER  VII 

CHANGE   OF   DIET 

BRILLAT-SAVARIN,  when  pronounc- 
ing his  famous  maxim,  "  Tell  me  what 
you  eat  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  are,"  cer- 
tainly never  suspected  the  signal  confirmation 
which  the  entomological  world  would  be- 
stow upon  his  saying.  Our  gastrosopher 
was  speaking  only  of  the  culinary  caprices 
of  man  rendered  fastidious  by  the  sweets 
of  life;  but  he  might,  in  a  more  serious  de- 
partment of  thought,  have  given  his  formula 
a  wider  and  more  general  bearing  and  ap- 
plied it  to  the  dishes  which  vary  so  greatly 
according  to  latitude,  climate  and  customs; 
he  might  above  all  have  taken  into  his  reck- 
oning the  harsh  realities  suffered  by  the  com- 
mon people,  when  perhaps  his  ideal  of  moral 
worth  would  have  been  found  in  a  platter  of 
chick-peas  oftener  than  in  a  pot  of  pate  de 
foie  gras.  No  matter:  his  aphorism,  the 
mere  whimsical  sally  of  an  epicure,  becomes 
an  imperious  truth  if  we  forget  the  luxury 
of  the  table  and  look  into  what  is  eaten  by 
166 


Change  of  Diet 

the  little  world  which  swarms  around  us. 

To  each  its  mess.  The  cabbage  Pieris 
consumes  the  pungent  leaves  of  the  Cruciferae 
as  the  food  of  her  infancy;  the  Silkworm 
disdains  any  foliage  other  than  that  of  the 
mulberry-tree.  The  Spurge  Hawk-moth  re- 
quires the  caustic  milk-sap  of  the  tithymals: 
the  Corn-weevil  the  grain  of  wheat;  the  Pea- 
weevil,  the  seeds  of  the  leguminosae;  the 
Balaninus  l  the  hazel-nut,  the  chestnut,  the 
acorn;  the  Brachycera  2  the  clove  of  garlic. 
Each  has  its  diet,  each  its  plant;  and  each 
plant  has  its  customary  guests.  Their  rela- 
tions are  so  precise  that  in  many  cases  one 
might  determine  the  insect  by  the  vegetable 
which  supports  it,  or  the  vegetable  by  the 
insect. 

If  you  know  the  lily,  you  may  name  as  a 
Crioceris3  the  tiny  scarlet  Scarabaeid  that 
inhabits  it  and  peoples  its  leaves  with  larvae 
which  keep  themselves  cool  beneath  an  over- 
coat of  ordure.  If  you  know  the  Crioceris, 
you  may  name  as  a  lily  the  plant  which  she 
devastates.  It  will  not  perhaps  be  the  com- 

1 A   genus  of  Beetles   including   the   Acorn-weevil,   the 
Nut-weevil  and  others. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  A  division  of  Flies  including  the  Gad-flies  and  Rob- 
ber-flies.—  Translator's  Note. 

3  For  the  Lily-beetle,  or  Crioceris   merdigera,  cf.     The 
Glow-worm  and  Other  Beetles,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  trans- 
lated by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos:  chaps,  xvi.  and 
xvii. —  Translator's  Note. 

167 


More  Hunting  Wasps    • 

mon  or  white  lily,  but  some  other  representa- 
tive of  the  same  family  —  Turk's  cap  lily, 
orange  lily,  scarlet  Martagon,  lancifoliate 
lily,  tiger-spotted  lily,  golden  lily  —  hailing 
from  the  Alps  or  the  Pyrenees,  or  brought 
from  China  or  Japan.  Relying  on  the 
Crioceris,  who  is  an  expert  judge  of  exotic 
as  well  as  of  native  Liliaceae,  you  may  name 
as  a  lily  the  plant  with  which  you  are  un- 
acquainted and  trust  the  word  of  this  singu- 
lar botanical  master.  Whether  the  flower 
be  red,  yellow,  ruddy-brown  or  sown  with 
crimson  spots,  characteristics  so  unlike  the 
immaculate  whiteness  of  the  familiar  flower, 
do  not  hesitate,  adopt  the  name  dictated  by 
the  Beetle.  Where  man  is  liable  to  mistake 
the  insect  is  never  mistaken. 

This  insect  botany,  a  cause  of  such  grie- 
vous tribulations,  has  always  impressed  the 
worker  in  the  fields,  who,  for  all  that,  is  a 
very  indifferent  observer.  The  man  who  was 
the  first  to  see  his  cabbage-plot  devastated 
by  caterpillars  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Pieris.  Science  completed  the  process,  in  its 
desire  to  serve  a  useful  purpose  or  merely 
to  seek  truth  for  truth's  sake;  and  to-day 
the  relations  between  the  insect  and  the  plant 
form  a  collection  of  records  as  important 
from  the  philosophical  as  from  the  practical, 
168 


Change  of  Diet 

agricultural  point  of  view.  What  is  much 
less  familiar  to  us,  because  it  touches  us  less 
nearly,  is  the  zoology  of  the  insect,  that  is  to 
say,  the  selection  which  it  makes,  to  feed 
its  larva,  of  this  or  that  animal  species,  to 
the  exclusion  of  others.  The  subject  is  so 
vast  that  a  volume  were  not  sufficient  to  ex- 
haust it;  besides,  data  are  lacking  in  the  vast 
majority  of  cases.  It  is  reserved  for  a  still 
very  distant  future  to  raise  this  point  of 
biology  to  the  level  already  reached  by  the 
question  of  vegetable  diet.  It  will  be  enough 
if  I  contribute  a  few  observations  scattered 
through  my  writings  or  my  notes. 

What  does  the  Wasp  addicted  to  a  preda- 
tory life  eat,  of  course  in  the  larval  state? 
Now,  to  begin  with,  we  see  natural  sections 
which  adopt  as  their  prey  different  species 
of  one  and  the  same  order,  in  one  and  the 
same  group.  Thus  the  Ammophilae  hunt 
exclusively  the  larvae  of  the  night-flying 
Moths.  This  taste  is  shared  by  the  Eu- 
menes,1  a  very  different  genus.  The  Spheges 
and  Tachytes  are  addicted  to  Orthoptera; 
the  Cerceres,  apart  from  a  few  exceptions, 
are  faithful  to  the  Weevil;  both  the  Phi- 

1  Cf.  The  Mason-wasps,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  translated 
by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos:  chap.  i. —  Translator's 
Note. 

169 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

lanthi  and  the  Palari  capture  only  Hymen- 
optera;  the  Pompili  specialize  in  hunting 
the  Spider;  the  Astata  revels  in  the  flavour 
of  Bugs;  the  Bembeces  want  Flies  and  no- 
thing else;  the  Scoliae  enjoy  the  monopoly  of 
the  Lamellicorn-grubs ;  the  Pelopaei  favour 
the  young  Epeirae,1  the  Stizi  vary  in  opin- 
ion: of  the  two  in  my  neighbourhood,  one, 
S.  ruficornus,  fiills  her  larder  with  Mantes 
and  the  other,  S.  tridentatus,  fills  it  with  Ci- 
cadellae ;  2  lastly,  the  Crabronidae  3  levy  trib- 
ute upon  the  rabble  of  the  Muscidae.4 

Already  you  see  what  a  magnificent  classi- 
fication of  these  game-hunters  might  be  made 
with  a  faithfully  listed  bill  of  fare.  Na- 
tural groups  stand  out,  characterized  merely 
by  the  identity  of  their  victuals.  I  trust 
that  the  methodical  science  of  the  future  will 
take  account  of  these  gastronomic  laws,  to 
the  great  relief  of  the  entomological  novice, 
who  is  too  often  hampered  by  the  snares  of 
the  mouth-parts,  the  antennae  and  the  nerv- 
ures  of  the  wings.  I  call  for  a  classification 
in  which  the  insect's  aptitudes,  its  diet,  its 

1  Or    Garden    Spiders.     Cf.    The   Life    of   the   Spider: 
chaps,  ix.  to  xiv.  and  appendix. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  Cf.   The  Life  of  the  Grasshopper:  chap,  xx.—  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

8  Any  Flies  akin  to  the  House-fly. —  Translator's  Note. 
4  Hornets. —  Translator's  Note. 
170 


Change  of  Diet 

industry  and  its  habits  shall  take  precedence 
of  the  shape  of  a  joint  in  its  antennae.  It 
will  come;  but  when? 

If  from  generalities  we  descend  to  details, 
we  shall  see  that  the  very  species  may,  in 
many  instances,  be  determined  from  the  na- 
ture of  its  victuals.  The  number  of  bur- 
rows of  Philanthus  apivorus  1  which  I  have 
inspected  since  I  have  been  rummaging  the 
hot  road-side  embankments,  to  enquire  into 
their  population,  would  seem  hyberbolical 
were  I  able  to  state  the  figures.  They  must 
amount,  it  seems  to  me,  to  thousands.  Well, 
in  this  multitude  of  food-stores,  whether  re- 
cent or  ancient,  uncovered  for  a  purpose  or 
encountered  by  chance,  I  have  not  once,  not 
as  often  as  once,  discovered  other  remains 
than  those  of  the  Hive-bee:  the  imperishable 
wings,  still  connected  in  pairs,  the  cranium 
and  thorax  enveloped  in  a  violet  shroud, 
the  winding-sheet  which  time  throws  over 
these  relics.  To-day  as  when  I  was  a  be- 
ginner, ever  so  long  ago;  in  the  north  as  in 
the  south  of  the  country  which  I  explored; 
in  mountainous  regions  as  on  the  plains,  the 
Philanthus  follows  an  unvarying  diet:  she 
must  have  the  Hive-bee,  always  the  Bee  and 

1  For  the  Bee-eating  Philanthus  cf.  Chapter  X.  of  the 
present  volume. —  Translator's  Note. 
171 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

never  any  other,  however  closely  various 
other  kinds  of  game  resemble  the  Bee  in 
quality.  If,  therefore,  when  exploring  sunny 
banks,  you  find  beneath  the  soil  a  small  parcel 
of  mutilated  Bees,  that  will  be  enough  to 
point  to  the  existence  of  a  local  colony  of 
Philanthus  apivorus.  She  alone  knows  the 
recipe  for  making  potted  Bee-meat.  The 
Crioceris  was  but  now  teaching  us  all  about 
the  lily  family;  and  here  the  mildewed  body 
of  the  Bee  tells  us  of  the  Philanthus  and  her 
lair. 

Similarly  the  female  Ephippiger  helps  us 
to  identify  the  Languedocian  Sphex:  her 
relics,  the  cymbals  and  the  long  sabre,  are 
the  unmistakable  sign  of  the  cocoon  to  which 
they  adhere.  The  black  Cricket,  with  his 
red-braided  thighs,  is  the  infallible  label  of 
the  Yellow-winged  Sphex;  the  larva  of 
Oryctes  nasicornis  tells  us  of  the  Garden 
Scolia  as  certainly  as  the  best  description; 
the  Cetonia-grub  proclaims  the  Two-banded 
Scolia  and  the  larva  of  the  Anoxia  an- 
nounces the  Interrupted  Scolia. 

After  these  exclusive  ones,  who  disdain  to 
vary  their  meals,  let  us  mention  the  eclectics, 
who,  in  a  group  which  is  generally  well- 
defined,  are  able  to  select  among  different 
172 


Change  of  Diet 

kinds  of  game  appropriate  to  their  bulk. 
The  Great  Cerceris  1  'favours  above  all  Cle- 
onus  ophthalmicus,  one  of  the  largest  of  our 
Weevils;  but  at  need  she  accepts  the  other 
Cleoni,  as  well  as  the  kindred  genera,  pro- 
vided that  the  capture  be  of  an  imposing 
size.  Cerceris  arenaria  2  extends  her  hunt- 
ing-grounds farther  afield:  any  Weevil  of 
average  dimensions  is  to  her  a  welcome  cap- 
ture. The  Buprestis-hunting  Cerceris  adopts 
all  the  Buprestes  indiscriminately,  so  long 
as  they  are  not  beyond  her  strength.  The 
Crowned  Philanthus  (P.  coronatus,  FAB.) 
fills  her  underground  warehouses  with  Ha- 
licti 3  chosen  among  the  biggest.  Much 
smaller  than  her  kinswoman,  Philanthus 
raptor,  LEP.,  stores  away  Halicti  chosen 
among  the  less  large  species.  Any  adult 
Acridian  approaching  an  inch  in  length  suits 
the  White-banded  Sphex.  The  various 
tidae  of  the  neighbourhood  are  admitted  to 
the  larder  of  Stizus  ruficornus  and  of  the 
Mantis-hunting  Tachytes  on  the  sole  condi- 
tion of  being  young  and  tender.  The  lar- 

1  Cerceris  tuberculata.     Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps, 
ii.  and  iii. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  Cf.  idem:  chap.  i. — Translator's  Note. 

3  Cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  trans- 
lated  by  Alexander   Teixeira   de   Mattos:   chaps,  xii.   to 
xiv. —  Translator's  Note. 

173 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

gest  of  Our  Bembeces  (B.  rostrate,  FAB., 
and  B.  bidentata,  VAN  DER  LIND)  *  are 
eager  consumers  of  Gad-flies.  With  these 
chief  dishes  they  associate  relishes  levied  in- 
differently from  the  rest  of  the  Fly  clan. 
The  Sandy  Ammophila  2  (A.  sabulosa,  VAN 
DER  LIND)  and  the  Hairy  Ammophila 
(A.  hirsuta,  KIRB.)  cram  into  each  burrow 
a  single  but  corpulent  caterpillar,  always  of 
the  Moth  tribe  and  varying  greatly  in  color- 
ation, which  denotes  distinct  species.  The 
Silky  Ammophila 3  (A.  holosericea,  VAN 
DER  LIND)  has  a  better  assorted  diet. 
She  requires  for  each  banqueter  three  or 
four  items,  which  include  the  Measuring- 
worms,  or  Loopers,  and  the  caterpillars 
of  ordinary  Moths,  all  of  which  are  equally 
appreciated.  The  Brown-winged  Solenius 
(S.  fascipennis,  LEP.),  who  elects  to  dwell 
in  the  soft  dead  wood  of  old  willow-trees, 
has  a  marked  preference  for  Virgil's  Bee, 
Eris tails  tenax*  willingly  adding,  sometimes 
as  a  side-dish,  sometimes  as  the  principal 
game,  Helophilus  pendulus,  whose  costume 

1  For  the  Rostrate  Bembex  and  the  Two-pronged  Bem- 
bex,   cf.    The  Hunting   Wasps:   chap.   xiv. —  Translator's 
Note. 

2  Cf.  idem:  chap.  xiii. —  Translator's  Note. 

3  Cf.  idem:  chap.  xiv. —  Translator's  Note. 

4  Actually  the   Common    Drone-fly   and    somewhat   re- 
sembling a  Bee  in  appearance.    Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps: 
chap.  xiv. —  Translator's  Note. 

174 


Change  of  Diet 

is  very  different.  On  the  faith  of  indistin- 
guishable remains,  we  must  no  doubt  enter 
a  number  of  other  Flies  in  her  game-book. 
The  Golden-mouthed  Hornet  (Crabro 
chrysostomus,  LEP. )  another  burrower  in 
old  willow-trees,  prefers  the  Syrphi,1  with- 
out distinction  of  species.  The  Wandering 
Solenius  2  (S.  vagus,  LEP.),  an  inmate  of 
the  dry  bramble-stems  and  of  the  dwarf- 
elder,  lays  under  contribution  for  her  larder 
the  genera  Syritta,  Sphterophoria,  Sarco- 
phaga,  Syrphus,  Melanophora,  Paragus  and 
apparently  many  others.  The  species  which 
recurs  most  frequently  in  my  notes  is  Syritta 
pipiens. 

Without  pursuing  this  tedious  list  any  far- 
ther, we  plainly  perceive  the  general  result. 
Each  huntress  has  her  characteristic  tastes, 
so  much  so  that,  when  we  know  the  bill  of 
fare,  we  can  tell  the  genus  and  very  often 
the  species  of  the  guest,  thus  proving  the 
proud  truth  of  the  maxim,  "  Tell  me  what 
you  eat  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  are." 

There  are  some  which  always  need  the 
same  prey.  The  offspring  of  the  Langue- 

1  The  Syrphi,  like  the  Eristales,  resemble  Bees  through 
having  the  abdomen  transversely  banded  with  yellow. — 
Translator's  Note. 

2  For    this    Fly-hunting    insect    cf.    Bramble-bees    and 
Others:  chaps,  i.  and  iii. —  Translator's  Note. 

175 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

docian  Sphex  religiously  consume  the  Ephip- 
piger,  that  family  dish  so  dear  to  their  an- 
cestors and  no  less  dear  to  their  descendants; 
no  innovation  in  the  ancient  usages  can  tempt 
them.  Others  are  better  suited  by  variety, 
for  reasons  connected  with  flavour  or  with 
facility  of  supply;  but  then  the  selection  of 
the  game  is  kept  within  fixed  limits. 
A  natural  group,  a  genus,  a  family,  more 
rarely  almost  a  whole  order :  this  is  the  hunt- 
ing-ground beyond  which  poaching  is  strictly 
forbidden.  The  law  is  absolute;  and  one 
and  all  scrupulously  refrain  from  transgress- 
ing it. 

In  the  place  of  the  Praying  Mantis,  offer 
the  Mantis-hunting  Tachytes  an  equivalent 
in  the  shape  of  a  Locust.  She  will  scorn 
the  morsel,  though  it  would  seem  to  be  of 
excellent  flavour,  seeing  that  Panzer's 
Tachytes  prefers  it  to  any  other  form  of 
game.  Offer  her  a  young  Empusa,  who 
differs  so  widely  from  the  Mantis  in  shape 
and  colour:  she  will  accept  without  hesita- 
tion and  operate  before  your  eyes.  Despite 
its  fantastic  appearance,  the  Devilkin  is  in- 
stantly recognized  by  the  Tachytes  as  a 
Mantid  and  therefore  as  game  falling  within 
her  scope. 

In  exchange  for  her  Cleonus,  give  to  the 
176 


Change  of  Diet 

Great  Cerceris  a  Buprestis,  the  delight  of 
one  of  her  near  kinsfolk.  She  will  have 
nothing  to  say  to  the  sumptuous  dish.  Ac- 
cept that!  She,  a  Weevil-eater!  Never  in 
this  world !  Present  her  with  a  Cleonus  of  a 
different  species,  or  any  other  large  Weevil, 
of  a  sort  which  she  has  most  probably  never 
seen  before,  since  it  does  not  figure  on  the 
inventory  of  the  provisions  in  her  burrows. 
This  time  there  is  no  show  of  disdain:  the 
victim  is  seized  and  stabbed  in  the  regulation 
manner  and  forthwith  stored  away. 

Try  to  persuade  the  Hairy  Ammophila 
that  Spiders  have  a  nutty  flavour,  as  La- 
lande  1  asserts;  and  you  will  see  how  coldly 
your  hints  are  received.  Try  merely  to  con- 
vince her  that  the  caterpillar  of  a  Butterfly 
is  as  good  to  eat  as  the  caterpillar  of  a 
Moth.  You  will  not  succeed.  But,  if  you 
substitute  for  her  underground  larva,  which 
I  suppose  to  be  grey,  another  underground 
larva  striped  with  black,  yellow,  rusty-red 
or  any  other  tint,  this  change  of  coloration 
will  not  prevent  her  from  recognizing,  in  the 

1  Joseph  Jerome  Le  Francois  de  Lalande  (1732-1807), 
the  astronomer.  Even  after  he  had  achieved  his  reputa- 
tion, he  sought  means,  outside  the  domain  of  science,  to 
make  himself  talked  about  and  found  these  in  the  dis- 
play partly  of  odd  tastes,  such  as  that  for  eating  Spiders 
and  caterpillars,  and  partly  of  atheistical  opinions. — 
Translator's  Note. 

177 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

substituted  dish,  a  victim  to  her  liking,  an 
equivalent  of  her  Grey  Worm. 

So  with  the  rest,  as  far  as  I  have  been  able 
to  experiment  with  them.  Each  obstinately 
refuses  what  is  alien  to  her  hunting-pre- 
serves, each  accepts  whatever  belongs  to 
them,  always  provided  that  the  game  substi- 
tuted is  much  the  same  in  size  and  develop- 
ment as  that  whereof  the  owner  has  been  de- 
prived. Thus  the  Tarsal  Tachytes,  an  ap- 
preciative epicure  of  tender  flesh,  would  not 
consent  to  replace  her  pinch  of  young  Acri- 
dian-grubs  with  the  one  big  Locust  that 
forms  the  food  of  Panzer's  Tachytes;  and 
the  latter,  in  her  turn,  would  never  exchange 
her  adult  Acridian  for  the  other's  menu  of 
small  fry.  The  genus  and  the  species  are 
the  same,  but  the  age  differs;  and  this  is 
enough  to  decide  the  question  of  acceptance 
or  refusal. 

When  its  depredations  cover  a  somewhat 
extensive  group,  how  does  the  insect  man- 
age to  recognize  the  genera,  the  species  com- 
posing her  allotted  portion  and  to  distin- 
guish them  from  the  rest  with  an  assured 
vision  which  the  inventory  of  her  burrows 
proves  never  to  be  at  fault?  Is  it  the  ge- 
neral appearance  that  guides  her?  No,  for 
in  some  Bembex-burrows  we  shall  find 
178 


Change  of  Diet 

Sphaerophoriae,  those  slender,  thong-like  crea- 
tures, and  Bombylii,  looking  like  velvet  pin- 
cushions; no  again,  for  in  the  pits  of  the 
Silky  Ammophila  we  shall  see,  side  by  side, 
the  caterpillar  of  the  ordinary  shape  and  the 
Measuring-worm,  a  living  pair  of  compasses 
which  progresses  by  alternately  opening  out 
and  closing;  no,  once  more,  for  in  the  store- 
rooms of  Stizus  ruficornus  and  the  Mantis- 
hunting  Tachytes  we  see  stacked  beside  the 
Mantis  the  Empusa,  her  unrecognizable  cari- 
cature. 

Is  it  the  colouring?  Not  at  all.  There 
is  no  lack  of  instances.  What  a  variety  of 
hues  and  metallic  reflections,  distributed 
in  a  host  of  different  fashions,  appear  in  the 
Buprestes  that  are  hunted  by  the  Cerceris 
celebrated  by  Leon  Dufour.1  A  painter's 
palette,  containing  crushed  gold,  bronze, 
ruby  and  amethyst,  would  find  it  difficult  to 
rival  these  sumptuous  colours.  Neverthe- 
less the  Cerceris  makes  no  mistake :  all  this 
nation  of  insects,  so  differently  attired,  repre- 
sents to  her,  as  to  the  entomologist,  the  na- 

xjean  Marie  Leon  Dufour  (1780-1865)  was  an  army 
surgeon  who  served  with  distinction  in  several  campaigns 
and  subsequently  practised  as  a  doctor  in  the  Landes.  He 
attained  great  eminence  as  a  naturalist.  Cf.  The  Hunting 
Wasps:  chap.  i. ;  also  The  Life  of  the  Spider:  chap.  i. — 
Translator's  Note. 

179 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

tion  of  the  Buprestes.  The  inventory  of 
the  Hornet's  larder  will  include  Diptera  clad 
in  grey  or  russet  frieze;  others  are  girdled 
with  yellow,  flecked  with  white,  adorned  with 
crimson  lines;  others  are  steel-blue,  ebony 
black,  or  coppery  green;  and  underneath  this 
variety  of  dissimilar  costumes  we  find  the  in- 
variable Fly. 

Let  us  take  a  concrete  example.  Ferre- 
ro's  Cerceris  (C.  Ferreri,,  VAN  DER 
LIND)  consumes  Weevils.  Her  burrows 
are  usually  lined  with  Phynotomi  and  Sitones 
both  an  indeterminate  grey,  and  Otiorhynchi, 
black  or  tan-coloured.  Now  I  have  some- 
times happened  to  unearth  from  her  cells  a 
collection  of  veritable  jewels  which,  thanks  to 
their  bright  metallic  lustre,  made  a  most  strik- 
ing contrast  with  the  sombre  Otiorhynchus. 
These  were  the  Rhynchites  (R.  betuleti), 
who  roll  the  vine-leaves  into  cigars.  Equally 
magnificent,  some  of  them  were  azure  blue, 
others  copper  gilt,  for  the  cigar-roller  has  a 
twofold  colouring.  How  did  the  Cerceris 
manage  to  recognize  in  these  jewels  the  Wee- 
vil, the  near  relative  of  the  vulgar  Phyno- 
tomus?  Any  such  encounters  probably 
found  her  lacking  in  expert  knowledge;  her 
race  cannot  have  handed  down  to  her  other 
than  very  indeterminate  propensities,  for  she 
180 


Change  of  Diet 

does  not  appear  to  make  frequent  use  of  the 
Rhynchites,  as  is  proved  by  my  infrequent 
discovery  of  them  amid  the  mass  of  my 
numerous  excavations.  For  the  first  time, 
perhaps,  passing  through  a  vineyard,  she  saw 
the  rich  Beetle  gleaming  on  a  leaf;  it  was 
not  for  her  a  dish  in  current  consumption, 
consecrated  by  the  ancient  usages  of  the  fam- 
ily. It  was  something  novel,  exceptional, 
extraordinary.  Well,  this  extraordinary 
creature  is  recognized  with  certainty  as  a 
Weevil  and  stored  away  as  such.  The  glit- 
tering cuirass  of  the  Rhynchites  goes  to  take 
its  place  beside  the  grey  cloak  of  the  Phyno- 
tomus.  No,  it  is  not  the  colour  that  guides 
the  choice. 

Neither  is  it  the  shape.  Cerceris  arenaria 
hunts  any  medium-sized  Weevil.  I  should 
be  putting  the  reader's  patience  to  too  great 
a  test  if  I  attempted  to  give  in  this  place  a 
complete  inventory  of  the  specimens  identi- 
fied in  her  larder.  I  will  mention  only  two, 
which  my  latest  searches  around  my  village 
have  revealed.  The  Wasp  goes  hunting  on 
the  holm-oaks  of  the  neighbouring  hills  the 
Pubescent  Brachyderes  (B.  pubescens)  and 
the  Acorn-weevil  (Ealanmus  glandium) . 
What  have  these  two  Beetles  in  common  as 
regards  shape?  I  mean  by  shape  not  the 
181 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

structural  details  which  the  classifier  exam- 
ines through  his  magnifying-glass,  not  the 
delicate  features  which  a  Latreille  would 
quote  when  drawing  up  a  technical  descrip- 
tion, but  the  general  picture,  the  general  out- 
line that  impresses  itself  upon  the  vision 
even  of  an  untrained  eye  and  makes  the  man 
who  knows  nothing  of  science  and  above  all 
the  child,  a  most  perspicacious  observer,  con- 
nect certain  animals  together. 

In  this  respect,  what  have  the  Brachyderes 
and  the  Balaninus  in  common  in  the  eyes  of 
the  townsman,  the  peasant,  the  child  or  the 
Cerceris?  Absolutely  nothing.  The  first 
has  an  almost  cylindrical  figure;  the  second, 
squat,  short  and  thickset,  is  conical  in  front 
and  elliptical,  or  rather  shaped  like  the  ace 
of  hearts,  behind.  The  first  is  black,  strewn 
with  cloudy,  mouse-grey  spots;  the  second  is 
yellow  ochre.  The  head  of  the  first  ends  in 
a  sort  of  snout;  the  head  of  the  second  tapers 
into  a  curved  beak,  slender  as  a  horse-hair 
and  as  long  as  the  rest  of  the  body.  The 
Brachyderes  has  a  massive  proboscis,  cut  off 
short;  the  Balaninus  seems  to  be  smoking  an 
insanely  long  cigarette-holder. 

Who  would  think  of  connecting  two  crea- 
tures so  unlike,  of  calling  them  by  the  same 
name?  Outside  the  professional  classifiers, 
182 


Change  of  Diet 

no  one  would  dare  to.  The  Cerceris,  more 
perspicacious,  knows  each  of  them  for  a  Wee- 
vil, a  quarry  with  a  concentrated  nervous 
system,  lending  itself  to  the  surgical  feat  of 
her  single  stroke  of  the  lancet.  After  ob- 
taining an  abundant  booty  at  the  cost  of  the 
blunt-mouthed  insect,  with  which  she  some- 
times stuffs  her  cellars  to  the  exclusion  of  any 
other  fare,  according  to  the  hazards  of  the 
chase,  she  now  suddenly  sees  before  her  the 
creature  with  the  extravagant  proboscis. 
Accustomed  to  the  first,  will  she  fail  to  know 
the  second?  By  no  means:  at  the  first 
glance  she  recognizes  it  as  her  own;  and  the 
cell  already  furnished  with  a  few  Brachy- 
deres  receives  its  complement  of  Balanini. 
If  these  two  species  are  to  seek,  if  the  bur- 
rows are  far  from  the  holm-oaks,  the  Cer- 
ceris will  attack  Weevils  displaying  the  great- 
est variety  of  genus,  species,  form  and  color- 
ation, levying  tribute  indifferently  on  Sitones, 
Cneorhini,  Geonemi,  Otiorhynchi,  Stropho- 
somi  and  many  others. 

In  vain  do  I  rack  my  brains  merely  to 
guess  at  the  signs  upon  which  the  huntress 
relies  as  a  guide,  without  going  outside  one 
and  the  same  group,  in  the  midst  of  such 
a  variety  of  game;  above  all  by  what  char- 
acteristics she  recognizes  as  a  Weevil  the 
183 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

strange  Acorn  Balaninus,  the  only  one  among 
her  victims  that  wears  a  long  pipe-stem.  I 
leave  to  evolutionism,  atavism  and  other 
transcendental  u  isms  "  the  honour  and  also 
the  risk  of  explaining  what  I  humbly  recog- 
nize as  being  too  far  beyond  my  grasp.  Be- 
cause the  son  of  the  bird-catcher  who  imi- 
tates the  call  of  his  victims  has  been  fed  on 
roast  Robins,  Linnets  and  Chaffinches,  shall 
we  hastily  conclude  that  this  education 
through  the  stomach  will  enable  him  later, 
without  other  initiation  than  that  of  the  spit, 
to  know  his  way  about  the  ornithological 
groups  and  to  avoid  confusing  them  when  his 
turn  comes  to  set  his  limed  twigs  ?  Will  the 
digesting  of  a  ragout  of  little  birds,  however 
often  repeated  by  him  or  his  ascendants,  suf- 
fice to  make  him  a  finished  bird-catcher? 
The  Cerceris  has  eaten  Weevil;  her  ancestors 
have  all  eaten  Weevil,  religiously.  If  you 
see  in  this  the  reason  that  makes  the  Wasp 
a  Weevil-expert  endowed  with  a  perspicacity 
unrivalled  save  by  that  of  a  professional  en- 
tomologist, why  should  you  refuse  to  admit 
that  the  same  consequences  would  follow  in 
the  bird-catcher's  family? 

I  hasten  to  abandon  these  insoluble  prob- 
lems in  order  to  attack  the  question  of  pro- 
visions from  another  point  of  view.     Every 
184 


Change  of  Diet 

Hunting  Wasp  is  confined  to  a  certain  genus 
of  game,  which  is  usually  strictly  limited. 
She  pursues  her  appointed  quarry  and  re- 
gards anything  outside  it  with  suspicion  and 
distaste.  The  tricks  of  the  experimenter, 
who  drags  her  prey  from  under  her  and  flings 
her  another  in  exchange,  the  emotions  of  the 
possessor  deprived  of  her  property  and  im- 
mediately recovering  it,  but  under  another 
form,  are  powerless  to  put  her  on  the  wrong 
scent.  Obstinately  she  refuses  whatever  is 
alien  to  her  portion;  instantly  she  accepts 
whatever  forms  part  of  it.  Whence  arises 
this  insuperable  repugnance  for  provisions 
to  which  the  family  is  unaccustomed?  Here 
we  may  appeal  to  experiment.  Let  us  do  so : 
its  dictum  is  the  only  one  that  can  be  trusted. 
The  first  idea  that  presents  itself  and  the 
only  one,  I  think,  that  can  present  itself  is 
that  the  larva,  the  carnivorous  nurseling,  has 
its  preferences,  or  we  had  better  say  its  ex- 
clusive tastes.  This  kind  of  game  suits  it; 
that  does  not;  and  the  mother  provides  it 
with  food  in  conformity  with  its  appetites, 
which  are  unchangeable  in  each  species. 
Here  the  family  dish  is  the  Gad-fly;  else- 
where it  is  the  Weevil;  elsewhere  again  it  is 
the  Cricket,  the  Locust  and  the  Praying 
Mantis.  Good  in  themselves,  in  a  general 
185 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

way,  these  several  victuals  may  be  noxious 
to  a  consumer  who  is  not  used  to  them.  The 
larva  which  dotes  on  Locust  may  find  cater- 
pillar a  detestable  fare;  and  that  which  rev- 
els in  caterpillar  may  hold  Locust  in  horror. 
It  would  be  hard  for  us  to  discover  in  what 
manner  Cricket-flesh  and  Ephippiger-flesh 
differ  as  juicy,  nourishing  foodstuffs;  but  it 
does  not  follow  that  the  two  Sphex-wasps 
addicted  to  this  diet  have  not  very  decided 
opinions  on  the  matter,  or  that  each  of  them 
is  not  filled  with  the  highest  esteem  for  its 
traditional  dish  and  a  profound  dislike  for 
the  other.  There  is  no  discussing  tastes. 

Moreover,  the  question  of  health  may  well 
be  involved.  There  is  nothing  to  tell  us  that 
the  Spider,  that  treat  for  the  Pompilus,  is 
not  poison,  or  at  least  unwholesome  food,  to 
the  Bembex,  the  lover  of  Gad-flies;  that  the 
Ammophila's  succulent  caterpillar  is  not  re- 
pugnant to  the  stomach  of  the  Sphex  fed  upon 
the  dry  Acridian.  The  mother's  esteem  for 
one  kind  of  game  and  her  distrust  of  another 
would  in  that  case  be  due  to  the  likes  and 
dislikes  of  her  larvae;  the  victualler  would 
regulate  the  bill  of  fare  by  the  gastronomic 
demands  of  the  victualled. 

This  exclusiveness  of  the  carnivorous  larva 
seems  all  the  more  probable  inasmuch  as  the 
186 


Change  of  Diet 

larva  reared  on  vegetable  food  refuses  in 
any  way  to  lend  itself  to  a  change  of  diet. 
However  pressed  by  hunger,  the  caterpillar 
of  the  Spurge  Hawk-moth,  which  browses 
on  the  tithymals,  will  allow  itself  to  starve 
in  front  of  a  cabbage  leaf  which  makes  a 
peerless  meal  for  the  Pieris.  Its  stomach, 
burned  by  pungent  spices,  will  find  the  Cru- 
cifera  insipid  and  uneatable,  though  its 
piquancy  is  enhanced  by  essence  of  sulphur. 
The  Pieris,  on  its  part,  takes  good  care  not 
to  touch  the  tithymals :  they  would  endanger 
its  life.  The  caterpillar  of  the  Death's- 
head  Hawk-moth  requires  the  solanaceous 
narcotics,  principally  the  potato,  and  will 
have  nothing  else.  All  that  is  not  seasoned 
with  solanin  it  abhors.  And  it  is  not  only 
larvae  whose  food  is  strongly  spiced  with 
alkaloids  and  other  poisonous  substances  that 
refuse  any  innovation  in  their  food;  the 
others,  even  those  whose  diet  is  least  juicy, 
are  invincibly  uncompromising.  Each  has 
its  plant  or  its  group  of  plants,  beyond  which 
nothing  is  acceptable. 

I  remember  a  late  frost  which  had  nipped 
the  buds  of  the  mulberry-trees  during  the 
night,  just  when  the  first  leaves  were  out. 
Next  day  there  was  great  excitement  among 
my  neighbours:  the  Silk-worms  had  hatched 
187 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

and  the  food  had  suddenly  failed.  The 
farmers  had  to  wait  for  the  sun  to  repair 
the  disaster;  but  how  were  they  to  keep  the 
famishing  new-born  grubs  alive  for  a  few 
days?  They  knew  me  for  an  expert  in 
plants;  by  collecting  them  as  I  walked 
through  the  fields  I  had  earned  the  name 
of  a  medical  herbalist.  With  poppy-flowers 
I  prepared  an  elixir  which  cleared  the  sight; 
with  borage  I  obtained  a  syrup  which  was  a 
sovran  remedy  for  whooping-cough;  I  dis- 
tilled camomile;  I  extracted  the  essential 
oil  from  the  wintergreen.  In  short,  botany 
had  won  for  me  the  reputation  of  a  quack 
doctor.  After  all,  that  was  something. 

The  housewives  came  in  search  of  me 
from  every  point  of  the  compass  and  with 
tears  in  their  eyes  explained  the  situation. 
What  could  they  give  their  Silk-worms  while 
waiting  for  the  mulberry  to  sprout  afresh? 
It  was  a  serious  matter,  well  worthy  of  com- 
miseration. One  was  counting  on  her  batch 
to  buy  a  length  of  cloth  for  her  daughter, 
who  was  on  the  point  of  getting  married; 
another  told  me  of  her  plans  for  a  Pig  to 
be  fattened  against  the  coming  winter;  all 
deplored  the  handful  of  crown-pieces  which, 
hoarded  in  the  hiding-place  in  the  cupboard, 
would  have  afforded  help  in  difficult  times. 
188 


Change  of  Diet 

And,  full  of  their  troubles,  they  unfolded, 
before  my  eyes,  a  scrap  of  flannel  on  which 
the  vermin  were  swarming: 

"  Regardas,  moussu!  Fenoun  d'espell; 
et  ren  per  lour  douna!  Ah,  peca'ire! 
Look,  sir !  The  frost  has  come  and  we've 
nothing  to  give  them!  Oh,  what  a  misfor- 
tune!'' 

Poor  people!  What  a  harsh  trade  is 
yours:  respectable  above  all  others,  but  of 
all  the  most  uncertain!  You  work  your- 
selves to  death;  and,  when  you  have  almost 
reached  your  goal,  a  few  hours  of  a  cold 
night,  which  comes  upon  you  suddenly,  de- 
stroys your  harvest.  To  help  these  afflicted 
ones  seemed  to  me  a  very  difficult  thing.  I 
tried,  however,  taking  botany  as  my  guide; 
it  suggested  to  me,  as  substitutes  for  the 
mulberry,  the  members  of  closely-related 
families:  the  elm,  the  nettle-tree,  the  nettle, 
the  pellitory.  Their  nascent  leaves,  chopped 
small,  were  offered  to  the  Silk-worms. 
Other  and  far  less  logical  attempts  were 
made,  in  accordance  with  the  inspiration  of 
the  individuals.  Nothing  came  of  them. 
To  the  last  specimen,  the  new-born 
Silk-worms  died  of  hunger.  My  renown  as 
a  quack  must  have  suffered  somewhat  from 
this  check.  Was  it  really  my  fault?  No, 
189 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

it  was  the  fault  of  the  Silk-worm,  which  re- 
mained faithful  to  its  mulberry-leaf. 

It  was  therefore  in  nearly  the  certainty  of 
non-fulfilment  that  I  made  my  first  attempts 
at  rearing  carnivorous  larvae  with  a  quarry 
which  did  not  conform  with  the  customary 
regimen.  For  conscience'  sake,  more  or  less 
perfunctorily,  I  endeavoured  to  achieve 
something  that  seemed  to  me  bound  to  end  in 
pitiful  failure.  Only  the  Bembex-wasps, 
which  are  plentiful  in  the  sand  of  the  neigh- 
bouring hills,  might  still  afford  me,  without 
too  prolonged  a  search,  a  few  subjects  on 
which  to  experiment.  The  Tarsal  Bembex 
furnished  me  with  what  I  wanted :  larvae 
young  enough  to  have  still  before  them  a  long 
period  of  feeding  and  yet  sufficiently  devel- 
oped to  endure  the  trials  of  a  removal. 

These  larvae  are  exhumed  with  all  the  con- 
sideration which  their  delicate  skin  demands; 
a  number  of  head  of  game  are  likewise  un- 
earthed intact,  having  been  recently  brought 
by  the  mother.  They  consist  of  various 
Diptera,  including  some  Anthrax-flies.1  An 
old  sardine-box,  containing  a  layer  of  sifted 
sand  and  divided  into  compartments  by  paper 
partitions,  receives  my  charges,  who  are  iso- 

1  Cf .  The  Life  of  the  Fly:  chaps,  ii.  and  iv.—  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

190 


Change  of  Diet 

lated  one  from  another.  These  Fly-eaters 
I  propose  to  turn  into  Grasshopper-eaters; 
for  their  Bembex-diet  I  intend  to  substitute 
the  diet  of  a  Sphex  or  a  Tachytes.  To  save 
myself  tedious  errands  devoted  to  provision- 
ing the  refectory,  I  accept  what  good  for- 
tune offers  me  at  the  very  threshold  of  my 
door.  A  green  Locustid,  with  a  short  sabre 
bent  into  a  reaping-hook,  Phaneroptera  fal- 
cata,  is  ravaging  the  corollae  of  my  petunias. 
Now  is  the  time  to  indemnify  myself  for  the 
damage  which  she  has  caused  me.  I  pick 
her  young,  half  to  three-quarters  of  an  inch 
in  length;  and  I  deprive  her  of  movement, 
without  more  ado,  by  crushing  her  head. 
In  this  condition  she  is  served  up  to  the  Bem- 
bex-larvae  in  place  of  their  Flies. 

If  the  reader  has  shared  my  convictions 
of  failure,  convictions  based  on  very  logical 
motives,  he  will  now  share  my  profound 
surprise.  The  impossible  becomes  possible, 
the  senseless  becomes  reasonable  and  the 
expected  becomes  the  opposite  of  the  real. 
The  dish  served  on  the  Bembeces'  table  for 
the  first  time  since  Bembeces  came  into  the 
world  is  accepted  without  any  repugnance 
and  consumed  with  every  mark  of  satisfac- 
tion. I  will  here  set  down  the  detailed 
diary  of  one  of  my  guests;  that  of  the  others 
191 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

would  only  be  a  repetition,  save  for  a  few 
variations. 

2  August,  1883.     The  larva  of  the  Bem- 
bex,  as  I  extract  it  from  its  burrow,  is  about 
half-developed.     Around  it  I  find  only  some 
scanty  relics  of  its  meals,  consisting  chiefly 
of  Anthrax-wings,  half-diaphanous  and  half- 
clouded.     The  mother  would  appear  to  have 
completed  the  victualling  by  fresh  contribu- 
tions, added  day  by  day.     I  give  the  nurse- 
ling,  which    is   an   Anthrax-eater,    a   young 
Phaneroptera.     The    Locustid    is    attacked 
without  hesitation.     This  profound  change 
in  the  character  of  its  victuals  does  not  seem 
in  the  least  to  disturb  the  larva,  which  bites 
straight  into  the  rich  morsel  with  its  mandi- 
bles and  does  not  let  go  until  it  has  exhausted 
it.     Towards  evening  the  drained  carcase  is 
replaced  by  another,  quite  fresh,  of  the  same 
species  but  bulkier,   measuring  over   three- 
quarters  of  an  inch. 

3  August. —  Next  day  I  find  the  Phane- 
roptera devoured.     Nothing  remains  but  the 
dry  integuments,  which  are  not  dismembered. 
The  entire  contents  have  disappeared;  the 
game  has  been  emptied  through  a  large  open- 
ing made   in  the  belly.     A   regular  Grass- 
hopper-eater could  not  have  operated  more 
skilfully.     I   replace   the  worthless   carcase 

192 


Change  of  Diet 

by  two  small  Locustidae.  At  first  the  larva 
does  not  touch  them,  being  amply  sated  with 
the  copious  meal  of  the  day  before.  In  the 
afternoon,  however,  one  of  the  items  is  reso- 
lutely attacked. 

4  August. —  I  renew  the  victuals,  although 
those   of  the  day  before   are  not  finished. 
For  the  rest,  I  do  the  same  daily,  so  that  my 
charge  may  constantly  have   fresh  food  at 
hand.     High  game  might  upset  its  stomach. 
My  Locustidae  are  not  victims  at  the  same 
time  living  and  inert,  operated  upon  accord- 
ing to  the  delicate  method  of  the  insects  that 
paralyse  their  prey;  they  are  corpses,  pro- 
cured   by    a    brutal    crushing    of    the    head. 
With  the  temperature  now  prevailing,  flesh 
soon  becomes  tainted;  and  this  compels  me 
frequently  to  renew  the  provisions  in  my  sar- 
dine-box    refectory.     Two     specimens     are 
served    up.     One    is    attacked    soon    after- 
wards; and  the  larva  clings  to  it  assiduously. 

5  August. —  The  ravenous  appetite  of  the 
start   is   becoming   assuaged.     My   supplies 
may  well  be  too  generous;  and  it  might  be 
prudent  to  try  a  little  dieting  after  this  Gar- 
gantuan good  cheer.     The  mother  certainly 
is   more    parsimonious.     If   all   the    family 
were  to  eat  at  the  same  rate  as  my  guest, 
she  would  never  be  able  to  keep  pace  with 

193 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

their  demands.     Therefore,  for  reasons  of 
health,  this  is  a  day  of  fasting  and  vigil. 

6  August. —  Supplies    are    renewed   with 
two    Phaneropterae.     One   is   consumed   en- 
tirely; the  other  is  bitten  into. 

7  August. —  To-day's  ration  is  tasted  and 
then  abandoned.     The  larva  seems  uneasy. 
With  its  pointed  mouth  it  explores  the  walls 
of  its  chamber.     This  sign  denotes  the  ap- 
proach of  the  time  for  making  the  cocoon. 

8  August. —  During  the  night  the  larva 
has  spun  its  silken  eel-trap.     It  is  now  en- 
crusting it  with  grains  of  sand.     Then  fol- 
low, in  due  time,  the  normal  phases  of  the 
metamorphosis.     Fed  on  Locustidae,  a  diet 
unknown  to  its  race,  the  larva  passes  through 
its  several  stages  without  any  more  difficulty 
than  its  brothers  and  sisters  fed  on  Flies. 

I  obtained  the  same  success  in  offering 
young  Mantes  for  food.  One  of  the  larvae 
thus  served  would  even  incline  me  to  believe 
that  it  preferred  the  new  dish  to  the  tradi- 
tional diet  of  its  race.  Two  Eristales,  or 
Drone-flies,  and  a  Praying  Mantis  an  inch 
long  composed  its  daily  allowance.  The 
Drone-flies  are  disdained  from  the  first 
mouthful;  and  the  Mantis,  already  tasted  and 
apparently  found  excellent,  causes  the  Fly 
to  be  completely  forgotten.  Is  this  an  epi- 
194 


Change  of  Diet 

cure's  preference,  due  to  the  greater  juici- 
ness of  the  flesh?  I  am  not  in  a  position 
to  say.  At  all  events,  the  Bembex  is  not  so 
infatuated  with  Fly  as  to  refuse  to  abandon 
it  for  other  game. 

The  failure  which  I  foresaw  has  proved 
a  magnificent  success.  It  is  fairly  convinc- 
ing, is  it  not?  Without  the  evidence  of  ex- 
periment, what  can  we  rely  upon?  Beneath 
the  ruins  of  so  many  theories  which  appeared 
to  be  most  solidly  erected  I  should  hesitate 
to  admit  that  two  and  two  make  four  if  the 
facts  were  not  before  me.  My  argument 
had  the  most  tempting  probability  on  its  side, 
but  it  had  not  the  truth.  As  it  is  always 
possible  to  find  reasons  after  the  event  in 
support  of  an  opinion  which  one  would  not 
at  first  admit,  I  should  now  argue  as  fol- 
lows: 

The  plant  is  the  great  factory  in  which 
are  elaborated,  with  mineral  materials,  the 
organic  principles  which  are  the  materials 
of  life.  Certain  products  are  common  to  the 
whole  vegetable  series,  but  others,  far  less 
numerous,  are  prepared  in  special  labora- 
tories. Each  genus,  each  species  has  its 
trade-mark.  Here  essential  oils  are  manu- 
factured; here  alkaloids;  here  starches,  fatty 
substances,  resins,  sugars,  acids.  Hence  re- 
195' 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

suit  special  energies,  which  do  not  suit  every 
herbivorous  animal.  It  assuredly  requires  a 
stomach  made  expressly  for  the  purpose  to 
digest  aconite,  colchicum,  hemlock  or  hen- 
bane; those  who  have  not  such  a  stomach 
could  never  endure  a  diet  of  that  sort.  Be- 
sides, the  Mithridates  *  fed  on  poison  resist 
only  a  single  toxin.  The  caterpillar  of  the 
Death's-head  Hawk-moth,  which  delights  in 
the  solanin  of  the  potato,  would  be  killed 
by  the  acrid  principle  of  the  tithymals  that 
form  the  food  of  the  Spurge-caterpillar. 
The  herbivorous  larvae  are  therefore  per- 
force exclusive  in  their  tastes,  because  differ- 
ent genera  of  vegetables  possess  very  differ- 
ent properties. 

With  this  variety  in  the  products  of  the 
plant,  the  animal,  a  consumer  far  more  than 
a  producer,  contrasts  the  uniformity  in  its 
own  products.  The  albumen  in  the  egg  of 
the  Ostrich  or  the  Chaffinch,  the  casein  in  the 
milk  of  the  Cow  or  the  Ass,  the  muscular 
flesh  of  the  Wolf  or  the  Sheep,  the  Screech- 
owl  or  the  Field-mouse,  the  Frog  or  the 
Earth-worm:  these  remain  albumen,  casein 
or  fibrin,  edible  if  not  eaten.  Here  are  no 

1  Mithridates  VI.  King  of  Pontus   (d.  B.C.  63)    is  said 
to    have    secured    immunity    from    poison    by    taking    in- 
creased doses  of  it. —  Translator's  Note. 
196 


Change  of  Diet 

excruciating  condiments,  no  special  acridi- 
ties, no  alkaloids  fatal  to  any  stomach  other 
than  that  of  the  appointed  consumer;  so  that 
animal  food  is  not  confined  to  one  and  the 
same  eater.  What  does  not  man  eat,  from 
that  delicacy  of  the  arctic  regions,  soup  made 
of  Seal's  blood  and  a  scrap  of  Whale-blubber 
wrapped  in  a  willow-leaf  for  a  vegetable,  to 
the  Chinaman's  fried  Silk-worm  or  the 
Arab's  dried  Locust?  What  would  he  not 
eat,  if  he  had  not  to  overcome  the  repug- 
nance dictated  by  habit  far  rather  than  by 
actual  necessity?  The  prey  being  uniform 
in  its  nutritive  principles,  the  carnivorous 
larva  ought  to  accommodate  itself  to  any 
sort  of  game,  above  all  if  the  new  dish  be 
not  too  great  a  departure  from  consecrated 
usage.  Thus  should  I  argue,  with  no  less 
probability  on  my  side,  had  I  to  begin  all 
over  again.  But,  as  all  our  arguments  have 
not  the  value  of  a  single  fact,  I  should  be 
forced  in  the  end  to  resort  to  experiment. 

I  did  so  the  next  year,  on  a  larger  scale 
and  with  a  greater  variety  of  subjects.  I 
shrink  from  a  continuous  narrative  of  my  ex- 
periments and  of  my  personal  education  in  this 
new  art,  where  the  failure  of  one  day  taught 
me  the  way  to  succeed  on  the  morrow.  It 
would  be  long  and  tedious.  Enough  if  I 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

briefly  state  my  results  and  the  conditions 
which  must  be  fulfilled  in  order  to  run  the 
delicate  refectory  as  it  should  be  run. 

And,  first,  we  must  not  dream  of  detaching 
the  egg  from  its  natural  prey  to  lay  it  on 
another.  The  egg  adheres  pretty  firmly,  by 
its  cephalic  pole,  to  the  quarry.  To  remove 
it  from  its  place  would  inevitably  jeopardize 
its  future.  I  therefore  let  the  larva  hatch 
and  acquire  sufficient  strength  to  bear  the 
removal  without  peril.  For  that  matter,  my 
excavations  most  often  provide  me  with  my 
subjects  in  the  form  of  larvae.  I  adopt  for 
rearing-purposes  the  larvae  that  are  a  quar- 
ter to  a  half  developed.  The  others  are 
too  young  and  risky  to  handle,  or  too  old  and 
limited  to  a  short  period  of  artificial  feeding. 

Secondly,  I  avoid  bulky  heads  of  game, 
a  single  one  of  which  would  suffice  for  the 
whole  growing-stage.  I  have  already  said 
and  I  here  repeat  how  nice  a  matter  it  is  to 
consume  a  victim  which  has  to  keep  fresh 
for  a  couple  of  weeks  and  not  to  finish  dying 
until  it  is  almost  entirely  devoured.  Death 
here  leaves  no  corpse;  when  life  is  extinct, 
the  body  has  disappeared,  leaving  only  a 
shred  of  skin.  Larvae  with  only  one  large 
prey  have  a  special  art  of  eating,  a  danger- 
ous art,  in  which  a  clumsy  bite  would  prove 
198 


Change  of  Diet 

fatal.  If  bitten  before  the  proper  time  at 
such  a  point,  the  victim  becomes  putrid, 
which  promptly  causes  death  by  poisoning  in 
the  consumer.  When  diverted  from  its  plan 
of  attack,  deprived  of  its  clue,  the  larva  is 
not  always  able  to  rediscover  the  lawful 
morsels  in  good  time  and  is  killed  by  the 
decomposition  of  its  badly  dissected  prey. 
What  will  happen  if  the  experimenter  gives 
it  a  game  to  which  it  is  not  accustomed? 
Not  knowing  how  to  eat  it  according  to  rule, 
the  larva  will  kill  it;  and  by  next  day  the 
victuals  will  have  become  so  much  toxic 
putrescence.  I  have  already  told  how  I 
found  it  impossible  to  rear  the  Two-banded 
Scolia  on  Oryctes-larvae,  fastened  down  to 
deprive  them  of  movement,  or  even  on 
Ephippigers,  paralyzed  by  the  Languedocian 
Sphex.  In  both  cases  the  new  diet  was  ac- 
cepted without  hesitation,  a  proof  that  it 
suited  the  nurseling;  but  in  a  day  or  two 
putrescence  supervened  and  the  Scolia  per- 
ished on  the  fetid  morsel.  The  method  of 
preserving  the  Ephippiger,  so  well  known  to 
the  Sphex,  was  unknown  to  my  boarder; 
and  this  was  enough  to  convert  a  delicious 
food  into  poison. 

Even  so  did  my  other  attempts  miscarry 
wretchedly,  attempts  at  feeding  with  the  sin- 
199 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

gle  dish  consisting  of  one  big  head  of  game 
to  replace  the  normal  ration.  Only  one  suc- 
cess is  recorded  in  my  note-books,  but  that 
was  so  difficult  that  I  would  not  undertake  to 
obtain  it  a  second  time.  I  succeeded  in  feed- 
ing the  larva  of  the  Hairy  Ammophila  with 
an  adult  black  Cricket,  who  was  accepted  as 
readily  as  the  natural  game,  the  caterpillar. 
To  avoid  putrefaction  of  victuals  which 
last  overlong  and  are  not  consumed  accord- 
ing to  the  method  indispensable  to  their 
preservation,  I  employ  small  game,  each  piece 
of  which  can  be  finished  by  the  larva  at  a  sin- 
gle sitting,  or  at  most  in  a  single  day.  It 
matters  little  then  that  the  victim  is  slashed 
and  dismembered  at  random;  decomposition 
has  no  time  to  seize  upon  its  still  quivering 
tissues.  This  is  the  procedure  of  those 
larvae  which  gulp  down  their  food,  snapping 
at  random  without  distinguishing  one  part 
from  another,  such  as  the  Bembex-larvae, 
which  finish  the  Fly  into  which  they 
have  bitten  before  beginning  another  in  the 
heap,  or  the  Cerceris-larvae,  which  drain 
their  Weevils  methodically  one  after  another. 
With  the  first  strokes  of  the  mandibles  the 
victim  broached  may  be  mortally  wounded. 
This  is  no  disadvantage:  a  brief  spell  suffices 
to  make  use  of  the  corpse,  which  is  saved 

200 


Change  of  Diet 

from  putrefaction  by  being  promptly  con- 
sumed. Close  beside  it,  the  other  victims, 
quite  alive  though  motionless,  await  their  re- 
spective turns  and  supply  reserves  of  victuals 
which  are  always  fresh. 

I  am  too  unskilful  a  butcher  to  imitate  the 
Wasp  and  myself  to  resort  to  paralysis; 
moreover,  the  caustic  liquid  injected  into  the 
nerve-centres,  ammonia  in  particular,  would 
leave  traces  of  smell  or  flavour  which  might 
put  off  my  boarders.  I  am  therefore  com- 
pelled to  deprive  my  insects  of  the  power  of 
movement  by  killing  them  outright.  This 
makes  it  impracticable  to  provide  a  sufficiency 
of  provisions  beforehand  in  a  single  supply: 
while  one  item  of  the  ration  was  being  con- 
sumed the  rest  would  spoil.  One  expedient 
alone  remains  to  me,  one  which  entails  con- 
stant attendance :  it  is  to  renew  the  provisions 
each  day.  When  all  these  conditions  are  ful- 
filled, the  success  of  artificial  feeding  is  still 
not  without  its  difficulties;  nevertheless,  with 
a  little  care  and  above  all  plenty  of  patience, 
it  is  almost  certain. 

It  was  thus  that  I  reared  the  Tarsal  Bem- 
bex,  which  eats  Anthrax-flies  and  other  Dip- 
tera,  on  young  Locustidae  or  Mantidae;  the 
Silky  Ammophila,  whose  diet  consists  chiefly 
of  Measuring-worms,  on  small  Spiders;  the 

2OI 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

pot-making  Pelopaeus,  a  Spider-eater,  on  ten- 
der Acridians;  the  Sand  Cerceris,  a  passion- 
ate lover  of  Weevils,  on  Halicti;  the  Bee- 
eating  Philanthus,  which  feeds  exclusively  on 
Hive-bees,  on  Eristales  and  other  Flies. 
Without  succeeding  in  my  final  aim,  for  rea- 
sons which  I  have  just  explained,  I  have  seen 
the  Two-banded  Scolia  feasting  greedily  on 
the  grub  of  the  Oryctes,  which  was  substi- 
tuted for  that  of  the  Cetonia,  and  putting  up 
with  an  Ephippiger  taken  from  the  burrow 
of  the  Sphex;  I  have  been  present  at  the  re- 
past of  three  Hairy  Ammophilae  accepting 
with  an  excellent  appetite  the  Cricket  that 
replaced  their  caterpillar.  One  of  them,  as 
I  have  related,  contrived  to  keep  its  ration 
fresh,  which  enabled  it  to  reach  its  full  de- 
velopment and  to  spin  its  cocoon. 

These  examples,  the  only  ones  to  which 
my  experiments  have  extended  hitherto,  seem 
to  me  sufficiently  convincing  to  allow  me  to 
conclude  that  the  carnivorous  larva  does  not 
have  exclusive  tastes.  The  ration  supplied 
to  it  by  the  mother,  so  monotonous,  so  lim- 
ited in  quality,  might  be  replaced  by  others 
equally  to  its  taste.  Variety  does  not  dis- 
please the  larva;  it  does  it  as  much  good  as 
uniformity;  indeed,  it  would  be  of  greater 
benefit  to  the  race,  as  we  shall  see  presently. 

202 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  DIG  AT  THE   EVOLUTIONISTS 

TO  rear  a  caterpillar-eater  on  a  skewer- 
ful  of  Spiders  is  a  very  innocent  thing, 
unlikely  to  compromise  the  security  of  the 
State;  it  is  also  a  very  childish  thing,  as  I 
hasten  to  confess,  and  worthy  of  the  school- 
boy who,  in  the  mysteries  of  his  desk,  seeks 
as  best  he  may  some  diversion  from  the  fas- 
cinations of  his  exercise  in  composition. 
And  I  should  not  have  undertaken  these  in- 
vestigations, still  less  should  I  have  spoken 
them,  not  without  some  satisfaction,  if  I  had 
not  discerned,  in  the  results  obtained  in  my 
refectory,  a  certain  philosophic  import,  in- 
volving, so  it  seemed  to  me,  the  evolutionary 
theory. 

It  is  assuredly  a  majestic  enterprise,  com- 
mensurate with  man's  immense  ambitions,  to 
seek  to  pour  the  universe  into  the  mould  of  a 
formula  and  submit  every  reality  to  the  stand- 
ard of  reason.  The  geometrician  proceeds 
in  this  manner:  he  defines  the  cone,  an  ideal 
conception;  then  he  intersects  it  by  a  plane. 
203 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

The  conic  section  is  submitted  to  algebra,  an 
obstetrical  appliance  which  brings  forth  the 
equation;  and  behold,  entreated  now  in  one 
direction,  now  in  another,  the  womb  of  the 
formula  gives  birth  to  the  ellipse,  the  hyper- 
bola, the  parabola,  their  foci,  their  radius 
vectors,  their  tangents,  their  normals,  their 
conjugate  axes,  their  asymptotes  and  the  rest. 
It  is  magnificent,  so  much  so  that  you  are 
overcome  by  enthusiasm,  even  when  you 
are  twenty  years  old,  an  age  hardly  adapted 
to  the  austerities  of  mathematics.  It  is  su- 
perb. You  feel  as  if  you  were  witnessing 
the  creation  of  a  world. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  are  merely  ob- 
serving the  same  idea  from  different  points 
of  view,  which  are  illumined  by  the  success- 
ive phases  of  the  transformed  formula.  All 
that  algebra  unfolds  for  our  benefit  was  con- 
tained in  the  definition  of  the  cone,  but  it 
was  contained  as  a  germ,  under  latent  forms 
which  the  magic  of  the  calculus  converts  into 
explicit  forms.  The  gross  value  which  our 
mind  confided  to  the  equation  it  returns  to 
us,  without  loss  or  gain,  in  coins  stamped 
with  every  sort  of  effigy.  And  here  precisely 
is  that  which  constitutes  the  inflexible  rigour 
of  the  calculus,  the  luminous  certainty  before 
which  every  cultivated  mind  is  forced  to  bow. 
204 


A  Dig  at  the  Evolutionists 

Algebra  is  the  oracle  of  the  absolute  truth, 
because  it  reveals  nothing  but  what  the  mind 
had  hidden  in  it  under  an  amalgam  of  sym- 
bols. We  put  2  and  2  into  the  machine;  the 
rollers  work  and  show  us  4.  That  is  all. 

But  to  this  calculus,  all-powerful  so  long 
as  it  does  not  leave  the  domain  of  the  ideal, 
let  us  submit  a  very  modest  reality:  the  fall 
of  a  grain  of  sand,  the  pendular  movement 
of  a  hanging  body.  The  machine  no  longer 
works,  or  does  so  only  by  suppressing  al- 
most everything  that  is  real.  It  must  have 
an  ideal  material  point,  an  ideal  rigid  thread, 
an  ideal  point  of  suspension;  and  then  the 
pendular  movement  is  translated  by  a  form- 
ula. But  the  problem  defies  all  the  artifices 
of  analysis  if  the  oscillating  body  is  a  real 
body,  endowed  with  volume  and  friction; 
if  the  suspensory  thread  is  a  real  thread,  en- 
dowed with  weight  and  flexibility;  if  the  point 
of  support  is  a  real  point,  endowed  with  re- 
sistance and  capable  of  deflection.  So  with 
other  problems,  however  simple.  The  exact 
reality  escapes  the  formula. 

Yes,  it  would  be  a  fine  thing  to  put  the 
world  into  an  equation,  to  assume  as  the  first 
principle  a  cell  filled  with  albumen  and  by 
transformation  after  transformation  to  dis- 
cover life  under  its  thousand  aspects  as  the 
205 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

geometrician  discovers  the  ellipse  and  the 
other  curves  by  examining  his  conic  section. 
Yes,  it  would  be  magnificent  and  enough  to 
add  a  cubit  to  our  stature.  Alas,  how 
greatly  must  we  abate  our  pretensions  I  The 
reality  is  beyond  our  reach  when  it  is  only  a 
matter  of  following  a  grain  of  dust  in  its 
fall;  and  we  would  undertake  to  ascend  the 
river  of  life  and  trace  it  to  its  source !  The 
problem  is  a  more  arduous  one  than  that 
which  algebra  declines  to  solve.  There  are 
formidable  unknown  quantities  here,  more 
difficult  to  decipher  than  the  resistances,  the 
deflections  and  the  frictions  of  the  pendulum. 
Let  us  eliminate  them,  that  we  may  more 
easily  propound  the  theory. 

Very  well;  but  then  my  confidence  in  this 
natural  history  which  repudiates  nature  and 
gives  ideal  conceptions  precedence  over  real 
facts  is  shaken.  So,  without  seeking  the  op- 
portunity, which  is  not  my  business,  I  take 
it  when  it  presents  itself;  I  examine  the 
theory  of  evolution  from  every  side;  and,  as 
that  which  I  have  been  assured  is  the  ma- 
jestic dome  of  a  monument  capable  of  defy- 
ing the  ages  appears  to  me  to  be  no  more 
than  a  bladder,  I  irreverently  dig  my  pin  into 
it. 

Here  is  the  latest  dig.  Adaptability  to  a 
206 


A  Dig  at  the  Evolutionists 

varied  diet  is  an  element  of  well-being  in  the 
animal,  a  factor  of  prime  importance  for  the 
extension  and  predominance  of  its  race  in  the 
bitter  struggle  for  life.  The  most  unfor- 
tunate species  would  be  that  which  depended 
for  its  existence  on  a  diet  so  exclusive  that 
no  other  could  replace  it.  What  would  be- 
come of  the  Swallow  if  he  required,  in  order 
to  live,  one  particular  Gnat,  a  single  Gnat, 
always  the  same  ?  When  once  this  Gnat  had 
disappeared  —  and  the  life  of  the  Mosquito 
is  not  a  long  one  —  the  bird  would  die  of 
starvation.  Fortunately  for  himself  and  for 
the  happiness  of  our  homes,  the  Swallow 
gulps  them  all  down  indiscriminately,  to- 
gether with  a  host  of  other  insects  that  per- 
form aerial  ballets.  What  would  become  of 
the  Lark  were  his  gizzard  able  to  digest 
only  one  seed,  invariably  the  same?  When 
the  season  for  this  seed  was  over  —  and  the 
season  is  always  a  short  one  —  the  haunter 
of  the  furrows  would  perish. 

Is  not  man's  complaisant  stomach,  adapted 
to  the  largest  variety  of  nourishment,  one 
of  his  great  zoological  privileges?  He  is 
thus  rendered  independent  of  climates,  sea- 
sons and  latitudes.  And  the  Dog:  how  is 
it  that  of  all  the  domestic  animals  he  alone 
is  able  to  accompany  us  everywhere,  even  on 
207 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  most  arduous  expeditions?  The  Dog 
again  is  omnivorous  and  therefore  a  cosmo- 
politan. 

The  discovery  of  a  new  dish,  said  Brillat- 
Savarin,  is  of  greater  importance  to  human- 
ity than  the  discovery  of  a  new  planet.  The 
aphorism  is  nearer  to  the  truth  than  it  ap- 
pears to  be  in  its  humorous  form.  Certainly 
the  man  who  was  the  first  to  think  of  crush- 
ing wheat,  kneading  flour  and  cooking  the 
paste  between  two  hot  stones  was  more  de- 
serving than  the  discoverer  of  the  two-hun- 
dredth asteroid.  The  invention  of  the  po- 
tato is  certainly  as  valuable  as  that  of  Nep- 
tune, glorious  as  the  latter  was.  All  that 
increases  our  alimentary  resources  is  a  dis- 
covery of  the  first  merit.  And  what  is  true 
of  man  cannot  be  other  than  true  of  animals. 
The  world  belongs  to  the  stomach  which  is 
independent  of  specialities.  This  truth  is  of 
the  kind  that  has  only  to  be  stated  to  be 
proved. 

Let  us  now  return  to  our  insects.  If  I  am 
to  believe  the  evolutionists,  the  various  game- 
hunting  Wasps  are  descended  from  a  small 
number  of  types,  which  are  themselves  de- 
rived, by  an  incalculable  number  of  concate- 
nations, from  a  few  amoebae,  a  few  monera 
and  lastly  from  the  first  clot  of  protoplasm 
208 


A  Dig  at  the  Evolutionists 

which  was  casually  condensed.  Let  us  not 
go  back  as  far  as  that;  let  us  not  plunge  into 
the  fogs  where  illusion  and  error  too  easily 
find  a  lurking-place.  Let  us  consider  a  sub- 
ject with  exact  limits  to  it;  this  is  the  only 
way  to  understand  one  another. 

The  Sphegidae  are  descended  from  a  single 
type,  which  itself  was  already  a  highly-de- 
veloped descendant  and,  like  its  successors, 
fed  its  family  on  prey.  The  close  similarity 
in  form,  in  colouring  and,  above  all,  in  ha- 
bits seem  to  refer  the  Tachytes  to  the  same 
origin.  This  is  ample;  let  us  be  satisfied 
with  it.  And  now  please  tell  me,  what  did 
this  prototype  of  the  Sphegidae  hunt?  Was 
its  diet  varied  or  uniform?  If  we  cannot 
decide,  let  us  examine  the  two  cases. 

The  diet  was  varied.  I  heartily  congratu- 
late the  first  born  of  the  Sphex-wasps.  She 
enjoyed  the  most  favourable  conditions  for 
leaving  a  prosperous  offspring.  Accommo- 
dating herself  to  any  kind  of  prey  not  dis- 
proportionate to  her  strength,  she  avoided 
the  dearth  of  a  given  species  of  game  at  this 
or  that  time  and  in  this  or  that  place;  she 
always  found  the  wherewithal  to  endow  her 
family  magnificently,  they  being,  for  that 
matter,  fairly  indifferent  to  the  nature  of  the 
victuals,  provided  that  these  consisted  of 
209 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

fresh  insect-flesh,  as  the  tastes  of  their  cousins 
many  times  removed  prove  to  this  day. 
This  matriarch  of  the  Sphex  clan  bore  within 
herself  the  best  chances  of  assuring  victory 
to  her  offspring  in  that  pitiless  fight  for  exist- 
ence which  eliminates  the  weakly  and  in- 
capable and  allows  none  but  the  strong  and 
industrious  to  survive;  she  possessed  an  apti- 
tude of  great  value  which  atavism  could  not 
fail  to  hand  down  and  which  her  descendants, 
who  are  greatly  interested  in  preserving  this 
magnificent  inheritance,  must  have  perma- 
nently adopted  and  even  accentuated  from 
one  generation  to  the  next,  from  one  branch, 
one  offshoot,  to  another. 

Instead  of  this  unscrupulously  omnivorous 
race,  levying  booty  upon  every  kind  of  game, 
to  its  very  great  advantage,  what  do  we  see 
to-day?  Each  Sphex  is  stupidly  limited  to 
an  unvarying  diet;  she  hunts  only  one  kind 
of  prey,  though  her  larva  accepts  them  all. 
One  will  have  nothing  but  the  Ephippiger 
and  must  have  a  female  at  that;  another  will 
have  nothing  but  the  Cricket.  This  one 
hunts  the  Locust  and  nothing  else;  that  one 
the  Mantis  and  the  Empusa.  Yet  another 
is  addicted  to  the  Grey  Worm  and  another  to 
the  Looper. 

Fools!     How  great  was  your  mistake  in 


210 


A  Dig  at  the  Evolutionists 

allowing  the  wise  eclecticism  of  your  ances- 
tress, whose  relics  now  repose  in  the  hard 
mud  of  some  lacustrian  stratum,  to  become 
obsolete !  How  much  better  would  things 
be  for  you  and  yours!  Abundance  is  as- 
sured; painful  and  often  fruitless  searches 
are  avoided;  the  larder  is  crammed  without 
being  subject  to  the  accidents  of  time,  place 
and  climate.  When  Ephippigers  run  short, 
you  fall  back  upon  Crickets;  when  there 
are  no  Crickets,  you  capture  Grasshoppers. 
But  no,  my  beautiful  Sphex-wasps,  you 
were  not  such  fools  as  that.  If  in  our 
days  you  are  each  confined  to  a  standing 
family-dish,  it  is  because  your  ancestress  of 
the  lacustrian  schists  never  taught  you  va- 
riety. 

Could  she  have  taught  you  uniformity? 
Let  us  suppose  that  the  Sphex  of  antiquity, 
a  novice  in  the  gastronomic  art,  prepared  her 
potted  meats  with  a  single  kind  of  game,  no 
matter  what.  It  was  then  her  descendants 
who,  subdivided  into  groups  and  consti- 
tuted into  so  many  distinct  species  by  the 
slow  travail  of  the  centuries,  realized  that 
in  addition  to  the  ancestral  fare  there  ex- 
isted a  host  of  other  foods.  Tradition  be- 
ing abandoned,  there  was  nothing  to  guide 
their  choice.  They  therefore  tried  a  bit  of 

211 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

everything  in  the  way  of  insect  game,  at 
hap-hazard;  and  each  time  the  larva,  whose 
tastes  alone  had  to  be  consulted,  was  satisfied 
with  the  food  supplied,  as  it  is  to-day  in  the 
refectory  provisioned  by  my  care. 

Every  attempt  led  to  the  invention  of  a 
new  dish,  an  important  event,  according  to 
the  masters,  an  inestimable  resource  for  the 
family,  who  were  thereby  delivered  from  the 
menace  of  death  and  enabled  to  thrive  over 
large  areas  whence  the  absence  or  rarity  of 
a  uniform  game  would  have  excluded  it. 
And,  after  making  use  of  a  host  of  different 
viands  in  order  to  attain  the  culinary  variety 
which  is  to-day  adopted  by  the  whole  of  the 
Sphex  nation,  lo  and  behold,  each  species 
confines  itself  to  a  single  sort  of  game,  out- 
side which  every  specimen  is  obstinately  re- 
fused, not  at  table,  of  course,  but  in  the  hunt- 
ing-field! By  your  experiments,  from  age 
to  age,  to  have  discovered  variety  in  diet; 
to  have  practised  it,  to  the  great  advantage 
of  your  race,  and  to  end  up  with  uniformity, 
the  cause  of  decadence;  to  have  known  the 
excellent  and  to  repudiate  it  for  the  mid- 
dling: oh,  my  Sphex-wasps,  it  would  be  stu- 
pid if  the  theory  of  evolution  were  correct ! 

To  avoid  insulting  you  and  also  from  re- 
spect for  common  sense,  I  prefer  therefore 

212 


A  Dig  at  the  Evolutionists 

to  believe  that,  if  in  our  days  you  confine 
your  hunting  to  a  single  kind  of  game,  it  is 
because  you  have  never  known  any  other.  I 
prefer  to  believe  that  your  common  ances- 
tress, your  precursor,  whether  herl  ta'stes 
were  simple  or  complex,  is  a  pure  chimera, 
for,  if  there  were  any  relationship  between 
you,  having  tested  everything  in  order  to 
arrive  at  the  actual  food  of  each  species, 
having  eaten  everything  and  found  it  grate- 
ful to  the  stomach,  you  would  now,  from 
first  to  last,  be  unprejudiced  consumers,  om- 
nivorous progressives.  I  prefer  to  believe, 
in  short,  that  the  theory  of  evolution  is  pow- 
erless to  explain  your  diet.  This  is  the  con- 
clusion drawn  from  the  dining-room  installed 
in  my  old  sardme^box. 


213 


CHAPTER  IX 

RATIONING  ACCORDING  TO  SEX 

/CONSIDERED  in  respect  of  quality,  the 
V^  food  has  just  disclosed  our  profound  ig- 
norance of  the  origins  of  instinct.  Success 
falls  to  the  blusterers,  to  the  imperturbable 
dogmatists,  from  whom  anything  is  accepted 
if  only  they  make  a  little  noise.  Let  us  dis- 
card this  bad  habit  and  admit  that  really, 
if  we  go  to  the  bottom  of  things,  we 
know  nothing  about  anything.  Scientifically 
speaking,  nature  is  a  riddle  to  which  human 
curiosity  finds  no  definite  solution.  Hypoth- 
esis follows  hypothesis;  the  theoretical 
rubbish-heap  grows  bigger  and  bigger;  and 
still  truth  escapes  us.  To  know  how  to 
know  nothing  might  well  be  the  last  word  of 
wisdom. 

Considered  in  respect  of  quantity,  the  food 
sets  us  other  problems,  no  less  obscure. 
Those  of  us  who  devote  ourselves  assidu- 
ously to  studying  the  customs  of  the  game- 
hunting  Wasps  soon  find  our  attention  ar- 
214 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

rested  by  a  very  remarkable  fact,  at  the 
time  when  our  mind,  refusing  to  be  satisfied 
with  sweeping  generalities,  which  our  indo- 
lence too  readily  makes  shift  with,  seeks  to 
enter  as  far  as  possible  into  the  secret  of  the 
details,  so  curious  and  sometimes  so  im- 
portant, as  and  when  they  become  better- 
known  to  us.  This  fact,  which  has  preoccu- 
pied me  for  many  a  long  year,  is  the  variable 
quantity  of  the  provisions  packed  into  the 
burrow  as  food  for  the  larva. 

Each  species  is  scrupulously  faithful  to  the 
diet  of  its  ancestors.  For  more  than  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century  I  have  been  exploring  my 
district;  and  I  have  never  known  the  diet  to 
vary.  To-day,  as  thirty  years  ago,  each 
huntress  must  have  the  game  which  I  first 
saw  her  pursuing.  But,  though  the  nature 
of  the  victuals  is  constant,  the  quantity  is  not 
so.  In  this  respect  the  difference  is  so  great 
that  he  would  need  to  be  a  very  superficial 
observer  who  should  fail  to  perceive  it  on 
his  first  examination  of  the  burrows.  In 
the  beginning,  this  difference,  involving  two, 
three,  four  times  the  quantity  and  more,  per- 
plexed me  extremely  and  led  me  to  the  con- 
clusions which  I  reject  to-day. 

Here,  among  the  instances  most  familiar 
215 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  me,  are  some  examples  of  these  variations 
in  the  number  of  victims  provided  for  the 
larva,  victims,  of  course,  very  nearly  iden- 
tical in  size.  In  the  larder  of  the  Yellow- 
winged  Sphex,  after  the  victualling  is  com- 
pleted and  the  house  shut  up,  two  or  three 
Crickets  are  sometimes  found  and  sometimes 
four.  Stizus  ruficornis^  established  in  some 
vein  of  soft  sandstone,  places  three  Praying 
Mantes  in  one  cell  and  five  in  another.  Of 
the  caskets  fashioned  by  Amedeus'  Eumenes  2 
out  of  clay  and  bits  of  stone,  the  more  richly 
endowed  contain  ten  small  caterpillars,  the 
more  poorly  furnished  five.  The  Sand  Cep 
ceris  3  will  sometimes  provide  a  ration  of 
eight  Weevils  and  sometimes  one  of  twelve 
or  even  more.  My  notes  abound  in  ab- 
stracts of  this  kind.  It  is  unnecessary  for 
the  purpose  in  hand  to  quote  them  all.  It 
will  serve  our  object  better  if  I  give  the  de- 
tailed inventory  of  the  Bee-eating  Philanthus 
and  of  the  Mantis-hunting  Tachytes,  con- 
sidered especially  with  regard  to  the  quan- 
tity of  the  victuals. 

The  slayer  of  Hive-bees  is  frequently  in 
my  neighbourhood;  and  I  can  obtain  from 

*Cf.    The  Hunting   Wasps:   chap,  xx.;    also  Bramble- 
bees  and  Others:  chap.  ix. —  Translator's  Note. 
2  Cf.     The  Mason-wasps:  chap.  i. —  Translator's  Note. 
8  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chap,  ii.—  Translator's  Note. 
216 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

her  with  the  least  trouble  the  greatest  num- 
ber of  data.  In  September  I  see  the  bold 
filibuster  flying  from  clump  to  clump  of  the 
pink  heather  pillaged  by  the  Bee.  The  ban- 
dit suddenly  arrives,  hovers,  makes  her 
choice  and  swoops  down.  The  trick  is  done : 
the  poor  worker,  with  her  tongue  lolling 
from  her  mouth  in  the  death-struggle,  is 
carried  through  the  air  to  the  underground 
den,  which  is  often  a  very  long  way  from  the 
spot  of  the  capture.  The  trickling  of  earthy 
refuse,  on  the  bare  banks,  or  on  the  slopes 
of  foot-paths,  instantly  reveals  the  dwellings 
of  the  ravisher;  and,  as  the  Philanthus  al- 
ways works  in  fairly  populous  colonies,  I  am 
able,  by  noting  the  position  of  the 
communities,  to  make  sure  of  fruitful 
excavations  during  the  forced  inactivity  of 
winter. 

The  sapping  is  a  laborious  task,  for  the 
galleries  run  to  a  great  depth.  Favier 
wields  the  pick  and  spade;  I  break  the  clods 
which  he  brings  down  and  open  the  cells, 
whose  contents  —  cocoons  and  remnants  of 
provisions  —  I  at  once  pour  into  a  little 
screw  of  paper.  Sometimes,  when  the  larva 
is  not  developed,  the  stack  of  Bees  is  intact; 
more  often  the  victuals  have  been  consumed; 
217 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

but  it  is  always  possible  to  tell  the  number 
of  items  provided.  The  heads,  abdomens 
and  thoraxes,  emptied  of  their  fleshy  sub- 
stance and  reduced  to  the  tough  outer  skin, 
are  easily  counted.  If  the  larva  has  chewed 
these  overmuch,  the  wings  at  least  are  left; 
these  are  sapless  organs  which  the  Philanthus 
absolutely  scorns.  They  are  likewise  spared 
by  mois'ture,  putrefaction  and  time,  so  much 
so  that  it  is  no  more  difficult  to  take  an  in- 
ventory of  a  cell  several  years  old  than  one 
of  a  recent  cell.  The  essential  thing  is  not 
to  overlook  any  of  these  tiny  relics  while 
placing  them  in  the  paper  bag,  amid  the 
thousand  incidents  of  the  excavation.  The 
rest  of  the  work  will  be  done  in  the  study, 
with  the  aid  of  the  lens,  taking  the  remains 
heap  by  heap;  the  wings  will  be  separated 
from  the  surrounding  refuse  and  counted  in 
sets  of  four.  The  result  will  give  the 
amount  of  the  provisions.  I  do  not  recom- 
mend this  task  to  any  one  who  is  not  en- 
dowed with  a  good  stock  of  patience,  nor 
above  all  to  any  one  who  does  not  start 
with  the  conviction  that  results  of  great 
interest  are  compatible  with  very  jnodest 
means. 

My  inspection  covers  a  total  of  one  hun- 
218 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

dred  and  thirty-six  cells,  which  are  divided 

as  in  the  table  opposite : 

2  cells  each  containing  i  Bee 

52     "       "  "          2  Bees 

36     "       "  "          3      " 

36     "       "  "          4      " 

Q      "         *'  u  r        u 

i  cell     "  "          6      ". 

136 

The  Mantis-hunting  Tachytes  consumes 
its  heap  of  Mantes,  the  horny  envelope  in- 
cluded, without  leaving  any  remains  but 
scanty  crumbs,  quite  insufficient  to  establish 
the  number  of  items  provided.  After  the 
meal  is  completed,  any  inventory  of  the  ra- 
tions becomes  impossible.  I  therefore  have 
recourse  to  the  cells  which  still  contain  the 
egg  or  the  very  young  larva  and,  above  all, 
to  those  whose  provisions  have  been  invaded 
by  a  tiny  parasitic  Gnat,  a  Tachina,1  which 
drains  the  game  without  cutting  it  up  and 
leaves  the  whole  skin  intact.  Twenty-five 
larders,  put  to  the  count,  give  me  the  follow- 
ing result: 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  iv.  and  xvi. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

219 


More  Hunting  Wasps 


8 

cells  each  containing     3  items 

u            u 

M 

u 

§ 

4 

4 

u            u 

u 

6 

u 

u           u 

u 

u 

3 

7 

2 

"        " 

11 

8 

11 

I 

cell 

« 

9 

u 

u 

<( 

u 

I 

12 

I 

it          it 

u 

16 

u 

25 

The  predominant  game  is  the  Praying 
Mantis,  green;  next  comes  the  Grey  Man- 
tis, ash-coloured.  A  few  Empusae  make  up 
the  total.  The  specimens  vary  in  dimensions 
within  fairly  elastic  limits:  I  measure  some 
which  are  a  third  to  a  half  inch  long,  aver- 
aging two-thirds  to  one  inch  long,  and  some 
which  are  two-fifths,  averaging  three 
quarters.  I  see  pretty  plainly  that  their 
number  increases  in  proportion  as  their 
size  diminishes,  as  though  the  Tachytes  were 
seeking  to  make  up  for  the  smallness  of  the 
game  by  increasing  the  amount;  none  the  less 
I  find  it  quite  impossible  to  detect  the  least 
equivalence  by  combining  the  two  factors 
of  number  and  size.  If  the  huntress  really 
estimates  the  provisions,  she  does  so  very 
roughly;  her  household  accounts  are  not  at 

220 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

all  well  kept;  each  head  of  game,  large  or 
small,  must  always  count  as  one  in  her  eyes. 

Put  on  my  guard,  I  look  to  see  whether 
the  honey-gathering  Bees  have  a  double 
service,  like  the  game-hunting  Wasps*.  I 
estimate  the  amount  of  honeyed  paste;  I 
gauge  the  cups  intended  to  contain  it.  In 
many  cases  the  result  resembles  the  first  ob- 
tained: the  abundance  of  provisions  varies 
from  one  cell  to  another.  Certain  Osmiae  l 
(O.  cornuta  and  O.  tricornis)  feed  their 
larvae  on  a  heap  of  pollen-dust  moistened  in 
the  middle  with  a  very  little  disgorged  honey. 
One  of  these  heaps  may  be  three  or  four 
times  the  size  of  some  other  in  the  same 
group  of  cells.  If  I  detach  from  its  pebble 
the  nest  of  the  Mason-bee,  the  Chalicodoma 
of  the  Walls,  I  see  cells  of  large  capacity, 
sumptuously  provisioned;  close  beside  these 
I  see  others,  of  less  capacity,  with  victuals 
parsimoniously  allotted.  The  fact  is  ge- 
neral; and  it  is  right  that  we  should  ask  our- 
selves the  reason  for  these  marked  differ- 
ences in  the  relative  quantity  of  foodstuffs 
and  for  these  unequal  rations. 

I  at  last  began  to  suspect  that  this  is  first 
and  foremost  a  question  of  sex.  In  many 

1  Cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others:  passim;  and,  in  par- 
ticular, chaps,  iii.  to  v. —  Translator's  Note. 

221 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Bees  and  Wasps,  indeed,  the  male  and  the 
female  differ  not  only  in  certain  details  of 
internal  or  external  structure  —  a  point  of 
view  which  does  not  affect  the  present  pro- 
blem —  but  also  in  length  and  bulk,  which  de- 
pend in  a  high  degree  on  the  quantity  of  food. 

Let  us  consider  in  particular  the  Bee-eat- 
ing Philanthus.  Compared  with  the  female, 
the  male  is  a  mere  abortion.  I  find  that  he  is 
only  a  third  to  half  the  size  of  the  other 
sex,  as  far  as  I  can  judge  by  sight  alone.  To 
obtain  exactly  the  respective  quantities  of 
substance,  I  should  need  delicate  balances, 
capable  of  weighing  down  to  a  milligramme. 
My  clumsy  villager's  scales,  on  which  po- 
tatoes may  be  weighed  to  within  a  kilo- 
gramme or  so,  do  not  permit  of  this  pre- 
cision. I  must  therefore  rely  on  the  evi- 
dence of  my  sight  alone,  evidence,  for  that 
matter,  which  is  amply  sufficient  in  the  pre- 
sent instance.  Compared  with  his  mate,  the 
Mantis-hunting  Tachytes  is  likewise  a  pigmy. 
We  are  quite  astonished  to  see  him  pester- 
ing his  giantess  on  the  threshold  of  the  bur- 
rows. 

We  observe  differences  no  less  pronounced 
of  size  —  and  consequently  of  volume,  mass 
and  weight  —  in  the  two  sexes  of  many  Os- 
miae.  The  differences  are  less  emphatic,  but 

222 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

are  still  on  the  same  side,  in  the  Cerceres, 
the  Stizi,  the  Spheges,  the  Chalicodomae  and 
many  more.  It  is  therefore  the  .rule  that 
the  male  is  smaller  than  the  female.  There 
are  of  course  some  exceptions,  though  not 
many;  and  I  am  far  from  denying  them.  I 
will  mention  certain  Anthidia  where  the  male 
is  the  larger  of  the  two.  Nevertheless,  in 
the  great  majority  of  cases  the  female  has 
the  advantage. 

And  this  is  as  it  should  be.  It  is  the 
mother,  the  mother  alone,  who  laboriously 
digs  underground  galleries  and  chambers, 
kneads  the  plaster  for  coating  the  cells, 
builds  the  dwelling-house  of  cement  and  bits 
of  grit,  bores  the  wood  and  divides  the  bur- 
row into  storeys,  cuts  the  disks  of  leaf  which 
will  be  joined  together  to  form  honey-pots, 
works  up  the  resin  gathered  in  drops  from 
the  wounds  in  the  pine-trees  to  build  ceilings 
in  the  empty  spiral  of  a  Snail-shell,  hunts  the 
prey,  paralyses  it  and  drags  it  indoors, 
gathers  the  pollen-dust,  prepares  the  honey 
in  her  crop,  stores  and  mixes  the  paste. 
This  severe  labour,  so  imperious  and  so  act- 
ive, in  which  the  insect's  whole  life  is  spent, 
manifestly  demands  a  bodily  strength  which 
would  be  quite  useless  to  the  male,  the 
amorous  trifler.  Thus,  as  a  general  rule,  in 
223 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  insects  which  carry  on  an  industry  the 
female  is  the  stronger  sex. 

Does  this  preeminence  imply  more  abund- 
ant provisions  during  the  larval  stage,  when 
the  insect  is  acquiring  the  physical  growth 
which  it  will  not  exceed  in  its  future  develop- 
ment? Simple  reflection  supplies  the  an- 
swer r  yes,  the  aggregate  growth  has  its 
equivalent  in  the  aggregate  provisions. 
Though  so  slight  a  creature  as  the  male 
Philanthus  finds  a  ration  of  two  Bees  suffi- 
cient for  his  needs,  the  female,  twice  or 
thrice  as  bulky,  will  consume  three  to  six 
at  least.  If  the  male  Tachytes  requires 
three  Mantes,  his  consort's  meal  will  demand 
a  batch  of  something  like  ten.  With  her 
comparative  corpulence,  the  female  Osmia 
will  need  a  heap  of  paste  twice  or  thrice  as 
great  as  that  of  her  brother,  the  male.  All 
this  is  obvious ;  the  animal  cannot  make  much 
out  of  little. 

Despite  this  evidence,  I  was  anxious  to 
enquire  whether  the  reality  corresponded 
with  the  previsions  of  the  most  elementary 
logic.  Instances  are  not  unknown  in  which 
the  most  sagacious  deductions  have  been 
found  to  disagree  with  the  facts.  During 
the  last  few  years,  therefore,  I  have  profited 
by  my  winter  leisure  to  collect,  from  spots 
224 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

noted  as  favourable  during  the  working-sea- 
son, a  few  handfuls  of  cocoons  of  various 
Digger-wasps,  notably  of  the  Bee-eating  Phil- 
anthus,  who  has  just  furnished  us  with  an  in- 
ventory of  provisions.  Surrounding  these 
cocoons  and  thrust  against  the  wall  of  the 
cell  were  the  remnants  of  the  victuals  — 
wings,  corselets,  heads,  wing-cases  —  a  count 
of  which  enabled  me  to  determine  how  many 
head  of  game  had  been  provided  for  the 
larva,  now  enclosed  in  its  silken  abode.  I 
thus  obtained  the  correct  list  of  provisions 
for  each  of  the  huntress'  cocoons.  On  the 
other  hand,  I  estimated  the  quantities  of 
honey,  or  rather  I  gauged  the  receptacles, 
the  cells,  whose  capacity  is  proportionate  to 
the  mass  of  the  provisions  stored.  After 
making  these  preparations,  registering  the 
cells,  cocoons  and  rations  and  putting  all  my 
figures  in  order,  I  had  only  to  wait  for  the 
hatching-season  to  determine  the  sex. 

Well,  I  found  that  logic  and  experiment 
were  in  perfect  agreement.  The  Philanthus- 
cocoons  with  two  Bees  gave  me  males,  always 
males;  those  with  a  larger  ration  gave  me 
females.  From  the  Tachytes-cocoons  with 
double  or  treble  that  ration  I  obtained  fe- 
males. When  fed  upon  four  or  five  Nut- 
weevils,  the  Sand  Cerceris  was  a  male;  when 
225 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

fed  upon  eight  or  ten,  a  female.  In  short, 
abundant  provisions  and  spacious  cells  yield 
females;  scanty  provisions  and  narrow  cells 
yield  males.  This  is  a  law  upon  which  I 
may  henceforth  rely. 

At  the  stage  which  we  have  now  reached 
a  question  arises,  a  question  of  major  im- 
portance, touching  the  most  nebulous  aspect 
of  embryogeny.  How  is  it  that  the  larva 
of  the  Philanthus,  to  take  a  particular  case, 
receives  three  to  five  Bees  from  its  mother 
when  it  is  to  become  a  female  and  not  more 
than  two  when  it  is  to  become  a  male? 
Here  the  various  head  of  game  are  iden- 
tical in  size,  in  flavour,  in  nutritive  proper- 
ties. The  food-value  is  precisely  in  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  items  supplied,  a  help- 
ful detail  which  eliminates  the  uncertainties 
wherein  we  might  be  left  by  the  provision  of 
game  of  different  species  and  varying  sizes. 
How  is  it,  then,  that  a  host  of  Bees  and 
Wasps,  of  honey-gatherers  as  well  as  hunt- 
resses, store  a  larger  or  smaller  quantity  of 
victuals  in  their  cells  according  as  the  nurse- 
lings are  to  become  females  or  males? 

The  provisions  are  stored  before  the  eggs 
are  laid;  and  these  provisions  are  measured 
by  the  needs  of  the  sex  of  an  egg  still  inside 
226 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

the  mother's  body.  If  the  egg-laying  were 
to  precede  the  rationing,  which  occasionally 
takes  place,  as  with  the  Odyneri,1  for  exam- 
ple, we  might  imagine  that  the  gravid  mother 
enquires  into  the  sex  of  the  egg,  recognizes 
it  and  stacks  victuals  accordingly.  But, 
whether  destined  to  become  a  male  or  a  fe- 
male, the  egg  is  always  the  same;  the  differ- 
ences —  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  there  are 
differences  —  are  in  the  domain  of  the  in- 
finitely subtle,  the  mysterious,  imperceptible 
even  to  the  most  practised  embryogenist. 
What  can  a  poor  insect  see  —  in  the  absolute 
darkness  of  its  burrow,  moreover  —  where 
science  armed  with  optical  instruments  has 
not  yet  succeeded  in  seeing  anything?  And 
besides,  even  were  it  more  discerning  than 
we  are  in  these  genetic  obscurities,  its  visual 
discernment  would  have  nothing  whereupon 
to  practise.  As  I  have  said,  the  egg  is  laid 
only  when  the  corresponding  provisions  are 
stored.  The  meal  is  prepared  before  the 
larva  which  is  to  eat  it  has  come  into  the 
world.  The  supply  is  generously  calculated 
by  the  needs  of  the  coming  creature;  the 
dining-room  is  built  large  or  small  to  contain 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  ii.  and  viii. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

227 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

a  giant  or  a  dwarf  still  germinating  in  the 
ovarian  ducts.  The  mother,  therefore, 
knows  the  sex  of  her  egg  beforehand. 

A  strange  conclusion,  which  plays  havoc 
with  our  current  notions !  The  logic  of  the 
facts  leads  us  to  it  directly.  And  yet  it 
seems  so  absurd  that,  before  accepting  it, 
we  seek  to  escape  the  predicament  by  an- 
other absurdity.  We  wonder  whether  the 
quantity  of  food  may  not  decide  the  fate  of 
the  egg,  originally  sexless.  Given  more 
food  and  more  room,  the  egg  would  become 
a  female;  given  less  food  and  less  room,  it 
would  become  a  male.  The  mother,  obey- 
ing her  instincts,  would  store  more  food  in 
this  case  and  less  in  that;  she  would  build 
now  a  large  and  now  a  small  cell;  and  the 
future  of  the  egg  would  be  determined  by 
the  conditions  of  food  and  shelter. 

Let  us  make  every  test,  every  experiment, 
down  to  the  absurd :  the  crude  absurdity  of 
the  moment  has  sometimes  proved  to  be  the 
truth  of  the  morrow.  Besides,  the  well- 
known  story  of  the  Hive-bee  should  make  us 
wary  of  rejecting  paradoxical  suppositions. 
Is  it  not  by  increasing  the  size  of  the  cell, 
by  modifying  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the 
food,  that  the  population  of  a  hive  trans- 
228 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

forms  a  worker  larva  into  a  female  or  royal 
larva?  It  is  true  that  the  sex  remains  the 
same,  since  the  workers  are  only  incompletely 
developed  females.  The  change  is  none  the 
less  miraculous,  so  much  so  that  it  is  almost 
lawful  to  enquire  whether  the  transformation 
may  not  go  further,  turning  a  male,  that 
poor  abortion,  into  a  sturdy  female  by  means 
of  a  plentiful  diet.  Let  us  therefore  resort 
to  experiment. 

I  have  at  hand  some  long  bits  of  reed  in 
the  hollow  of  which  an  Osmia,  the  Three- 
horned  Osmia,  has  stacked  her  cells,  bounded 
by  earthen  partitions.  I  have  related  else- 
where 1  how  I  obtain  as  many  of  these  nests 
as  I  could  wish  for.  When  the  reed  is  split 
lengthwise,  the  cells  come  into  view,  together 
with  their  provisions,  the  egg  lying  on  the 
paste,  or  even  the  budding  larva.  Observa- 
tions multiplied  ad  nauseam  have  taught  me 
where  to  find  the  males  and  where  the  fe- 
males in  this  apiary.  The  males  occupy  the 
fore-part  of  the  reed,  the  end  next  to  the 
opening;  the  females  are  at  the  bottom,  next 
to  the  knot  which  serves  as  a  natural  stop- 
per to  the  channel.  For  the  rest,  the  quan- 

1  Cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others:  chaps,  ii.  to  v. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

229 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

tity  of  the  provisions  in  itself  points  to  the 
sex:  for  the  females  it  is  twice  or  thrice  as 
great  as  for  the  males. 

In  the  scantily-provided  cells,  I  double  or 
treble  the  ration  with  food  taken  from  other 
cells;  in  the  cells  which  are  plentifully  sup- 
plied, I  reduce  the  portion  to  a  half  or  a 
third.  Controls  are  left:  that  is  to  say, 
some  cells  remain  untouched,  with  their  pro- 
visions as  I  found  them,  both  in  the  part 
which  is  abundantly  provided  and  in  that 
which  is  more  meagrely  rationed.  The  two 
halves  of  the  reed  are  then  restored  to  their 
original  position  and  firmly  bound  with  a  few 
turns  of  wire.  We  shall  see,  when  the  time 
comes,  whether  these  changes  increasing  or 
decreasing  the  victuals  have  determined  the 
sex. 

Here  is  the  result:  the  cells  which  at  first 
were  sparingly  provided,  but  whose  supplies 
were  doubled  or  trebled  by  my  artifice,  con- 
tain males,  as  foretold  by  the  original  amount 
of  victuals.  The  surplus  which  I  added  has 
not  completely  disappeared,  far  from  it:  the 
larva  has  had  more  than  it  needed  for  its 
evolution  as  a  male;  and,  being  unable  to 
consume  the  whole  of  its  copious  provisions, 
it  has  spun  its  cocoon  in  the  midst  of  the 
remaining  pollen-dust.  These  males,  so 
richly  supplied,  are  of  handsome  but  not  ex- 
230 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

aggerated  proportions;  you  can  see  that  the 
additional  food  has  profited  them  to  some 
small  extent. 

The  cells  with  abundant  provisions,  re- 
duced to  a  half  or  a  third  by  my  intervention, 
contain  cocoons  as  small  as  the  male  cocoons, 
pale,  translucent  and  limp,  whereas  the 
normal  cocoons  are  dark-brown,  opaque  and 
firm  to  the  touch.  These,  we  perceive  at 
once,  are  the  work  of  starved,  anaemic 
weavers,  who,  failing  to  satisfy  their  appe- 
tite and  having  eaten  the  last  grain  of  pollen, 
have,  before  dying,  done  their  best  with  their 
poor  little  drop  of  silk.  Those  cocoons 
which  correspond  with  the  smallest  allowance 
of  food  contain  only  a  dead  and  shrivelled 
larva;  others,  in  whose  case  the  provisions 
were  less  markedly  decreased,  contain  fe- 
males in  the  adult  form,  but  of  very  diminu- 
tive size,  comparable  with  that  of  the  males, 
or  even  smaller.  As  for  the  controls  which 
I  was  careful  to  leave,  they  confirm  the  fact 
that  I  had  males  in  the  part  near  the  orifice 
of  the  reed  and  females  in  the  part  near  the 
knot  closing  the  channel. 

Is  this  enough  to  dispose  of  the  very  im- 
probable supposition  that  the  determination 
of  the  sex  depends  on  the  quantity  of  food? 
Strictly  speaking,  there  is  still  one  door  open 
231 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  doubt.  It  may  be  said  that  experiment, 
with  its  artifices,  does  not  succeed  in  re- 
alizing the  delicate  natural  conditions.  To 
make  short  work  of  all  objections,  I  cannot 
do  better  than  have  recourse  to  facts  in 
which  the  experimenter's  hand  has  not  inter- 
vened. The  parasites  will  supply  us  with 
these  facts;  they  will  show  us  how  alien  the 
quantity  and  even  the  quality  of  the  food 
are  from  either  specific  or  sexual  characters. 
The  subject  of  enquiry  thus  becomes  double, 
instead  of  single  as  it  was  when  I  plundered 
one  cell  in  my  split  reeds  to  enrich  another. 
Let  us  follow  this  double  current  for  a  little 
while. 

An  Ammophila,  the  Silky  Ammophila,1 
which  feeds  on  Looper  caterpillars,2  has  just 
been  reared  in  my  refectory  on  Spiders.  Re- 
plete to  the  regulation  point,  it  spins  its  co- 
coon. What  will  emerge  from  this?  If 
the  reader  expects  to  see  any  modifications, 
caused  by  a  diet  which  the  species,  left  to 
itself,  had  never  effected,  let  him  be  unde- 
ceived and  that  quickly.  The  Ammophila 
fed  on  Spiders  is  precisely  the  same  as  the 

1  Cf.    The   Hunting   Wasps:   chaps,   xiii. —  Translator's 
Note. 

2  Known   also  as  Measuring-worms,   Inchworms,   Span- 
worms  and  Surveyors:  the  caterpillars  of  the  Geometrid 
Moths.—  Translator's  Note. 

232 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

Ammophila  fed  on  caterpillars,  just  as  man 
fed  on  rice  is  the  same  as  man  fed  on  wheat. 
In  vain  I  pass  my  lens  over  the  product  of 
my  art:  I  cannot  distinguish  it  from  the  na- 
tural product;  and  I  defy  the  most  meticu- 
lous entomologist  to  perceive  any  difference 
between  the  two.  It  is  the  same  with  my 
other  boarders  who  have  had  their  diet  al- 
tered. 

I  see  the  objection  coming.  The  differ- 
ences may  be  inappreciable,  for  my  experi- 
ments touch  only  a  first  rung  of  the  ladder. 
What  would  happen  if  the  ladder  were  pro- 
longed, if  the  offspring  of  the  Ammophila 
fed  on  Spiders  were  given  the  same  food 
generation  after  generation?  These  differ- 
ences, at  first  imperceptible,  might  become 
accentuated  until  they  grew  into  distinct  spe- 
cific characters;  the  habits  and  instincts  might 
also  change;  and  in  the  end  the  caterpillar- 
huntress  might  become  a  Spider-huntress, 
with  a  shape  of  her  own.  A  species  would 
be  created,  for,  among  the  factors  at  work 
in  the  transformation  of  animals,  the  most 
important  of  all  is  incontestably  the  type  of 
food,  the  nature  of  the  thing  wherewith  the 
animal  builds  itself.  All  this  is  much  more 
important  than  the  trivialities  which  Darwin 
relies  upon. 

233 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

To  create  a  species  is  magnificent  in  the- 
ory, so  that  we  find  ourselves  regretting  that 
the  experimenter  is  not  able  to  continue  the 
attempt.  But,  once  the  Ammophila  has 
flown  out  of  the  laboratory  to  slake  her 
thirst  at  the  flowers  in  the  neighbourhood, 
just  try  to  find  her  again  and  induce  her  to 
entrust  you  with  her  eggs,  which  you  would 
rear  in  the  refectory,  to  increase  the  taste 
for  Spiders  from  generation  to  generation! 
Merely  to  dream  of  it  were  madness.  Shall 
we,  in  our  helplessness,  admit  ourselves 
beaten  by  the  evolutionary  effects  of  diet? 
Not  a  bit  of  it  £  One  experiment  —  and  you 
could  not  wish  for  a  more  decisive  —  is  con- 
tinually in  progress,  apart  from  all  artifices, 
on  an  enormous  scale.  It  is  brought  to  our 
notice  by  the  parasites. 

They  must,  we  are  told,  have  acquired  the 
habit  of  living  on  others  in  order  to  save 
themselves  work  and  to  lead  an  easier  life. 
The  poor  wretches  have  made  a  sorry  blun- 
der. Their  life  is  of  the  hardest.  If  a 
few  establish  themselves  comfortably,  dearth 
and  dire  famine  await  most  of  the  rest. 
There  are  some  —  look  at  certain  of  the 
Oil-beetles  —  exposed  to  so  many  chances  of 
destruction  that,  to  save  one,  they  are 
obliged  to  procreate  a  thousand.  They  sel- 
234 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

dom  enjoy  a  free  meal.  Some  stray  into  the 
houses  of  hosts  whose  victuals  do  not  suit 
them;  others  find  only  a  ration  quite  insuffi- 
cient for  their  needs;  others  —  and  these  are 
very  numerous  —  find  nothing  at  all.  What 
misadventures,  what  disappointments  do 
these  needy  creatures  suffer,  unaccustomed  as 
they  are  to  work!  Let  me  relate  some  of 
their  misfortunes,  gleaned  at  random. 

The  Girdled  Dioxys  (D.  dncta)  loves  the 
ample  honey-stores  of  the  Chalicodoma  of 
the  Pebbles.  There  she  finds  abundant 
food,  so  abundant  that  she  cannot  eat  it  all. 
I  have  already  passed  censure  on  this  waste.1 
Now  a  little  Osmia  (O.  cyanoxantha,  P£ 
REZ)  makes  her  nest  in  the  Mason's  de- 
serted cells;  and  this  Bee,  a  victim  of  her 
ill-omened  dwelling,  also  harbours  the  Di- 
oxys. This  is  a  manifest  error  on  the  para- 
site's part.  The  nest  of  the  Chalicodoma, 
the  hemisphere  of  mortar  on  its  pebble,  is 
what  she  is  looking  for,  to  confide  her  eggs 
to  it.  But  the  nest  is  now  occupied  by  a 
stranger,  by  the  Osmia,  a  circumstance  un- 
known to  the  Dioxys,  who  comes  stealing  up 
to  lay  her  egg  in  the  mother's  absence.  The 
dome  is  familiar  to  her.  She  could  not  know 
it  better  if  she  had  built  it  herself.  Here 

1  Cf.  The  Mason-bees:  chap.  x. —  Translator's  Note, 
235 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

she  was  born ;  here  is  what  her  family  wants. 
Moreover,  there  is  nothing  to  arouse  her 
suspicions:  the  outside  of  the  home  has  not 
changed  its  appearance  in  any  respect;  the 
stopper  of  gravel  and  green  putty,  which 
later  will  form  a  violent  contrast  with  its 
white  front,  is  not  yet  constructed.  She  goes 
in  and  sees  a  heap  of  honey.  To  her  think- 
ing this  can  be  nothing  but  the  Chalicodoma's 
portion.  We  ourselves  would  be  beguiled, 
in  the  Osmia's  absence.  She  lays  her  eggs 
in  this  deceptive  cell. 

Her  mistake,  which  is  easy  to  understand, 
does  not  in  any  way  detract  from  her  great 
talents  as  a  parasite,  but  it  is  a  serious  mat- 
ter for  the  future  larva.  The  Osmia,  in 
fact,  in  view  of  her  small  dimensions,  collects 
but  a  very  scanty  store  of  food :  a  little  loaf 
of  pollen  and  honey,  hardly  the  size  of  an 
average  pea.  Such  a  ration  is  insufficient 
for  the  Dioxys.  I  have  described  her  as  a 
waster  of  food  when  her  larva  is  established, 
according  to  custom,  in  the  cell  of  the  Ma- 
son-bee. This  description  no  longer  applies; 
not  in  the  very  least.  Inadvertently  stray- 
ing to  the  Osmia's  table,  the  larva  has  no  ex- 
cuse for  turning  up  its  nose ;  it  does  not  leave 
part  of  the  food  to  go  bad;  it  eats,  up  the 
lot  without  having  had  enough. 
236 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

This  famine-stricken  refectory  can  give  us 
nothing  but  an  abortion.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  Dioxys  subjected  to  this,  niggardly 
test  does  not  die,  for  the  parasite  must  have 
a  tough  constitution  to  enable  it  to  face  the 
disastrous  hazards  which  lie  in  wait  for  it; 
but  it  attains  barely  half  its  ordinary  dimen- 
sions, which  means  one-eighth  of  its  normal 
bulk.  To  see  it  thus  diminished,  we  are  sur- 
prised at  its  tenacious  vitality,  which  en- 
ables it  to  reach  the  adult  form  in  spite  of 
the  extreme  deficiency  of  food.  Meanwhile, 
this  adult  is  still  the  Dioxys;  there  is  no 
change  of  any  kind  in  her  shape  or  colouring. 
Moreover,  the  two  sexes  are  represented; 
this  family  of  pigmies  has  its  males  and  fe- 
males. Dearth  and  the  farinaceous  mess  in 
the  Osmia's  cell  has  had  no  more  influence 
over  species  or  sex  than  abundance  and  flow- 
ing honey  in  the  Chalicodoma's  home. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  the  Spotted 
Sapyga  (S.  punctata),1  which,  a  parasite  of 
the  Three-pronged  Osmia,  a  denizen  of  the 
bramble,  and  of  the  Golden  Osmia,  an  oc- 
cupant of  empty  Snail-shells,  strays  into  the 
house  of  the  Tiny  Osmia  (O.  parvula),2 

1A  parasitic  Wasp.     Cf.    The  Mason-bees:   chaps,  ix. 
and  x. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  This  Bee  makes  her  home  in  the  brambles.     Cf.  Bram- 

237 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

where,  for  lack  of  sufficient  food,  it  does  not 
attain  half  its  normal  size. 

A  Leucospis *  inserts  her  eggs  through 
the  cement  wall  of  our  three  Chalicodomae. 
I  know  her  under  two  names.  When  she 
comes  from  the  Chalicodoma  of  the  Pebbles 
or  Walls,  whose  opulent  larva  saturates  her 
with  food,  she  deserves  by  her  large  size  the 
name  of  Leucospis  gigas,  which  Fabricius  be- 
stows upon  her;  when  she  comes  from  the 
Chalicodoma  of  the  Sheds,  she  deserves  no 
more  than  the  name  of  L.  grandis,  which  is 
all  that  Klug  grants  her.  With  a  smaller 
ration  "  the  giant  "  is  to  some  degree  di- 
minished and  becomes  no  more  than  "  the 
large."  When  she  comes  from  the  Chali- 
codoma of  the  Shrubs,  she  is  smaller  still; 
and,  if  some  nomenclator  were  to  seek  to 
describe  her,  she  would  no  longer  deserve 
to  be  called  more  than  middling.  From  di- 
mension 2  she  has  descended  to  dimension  i 
without  ceasing  to  be  the  same  insect,  despite 
the  change  of  diet;  and  at  the  same  time 
both  sexes  are  present  in  the  three  nurs- 
lings, despite  the  variation  in  the  quantity  of 
victuals. 

ble-diuellers  and  Others:  chaps,  ii.  and  iii. — Translator's 
Note. 
1  Cf.  The  Mason-bees:  chap.  xi. —  Translator's  Note. 

238 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

I  obtain  Anthrax  sinuata  1  from  various 
bees'  nests.  When  she  issues  from  the  co- 
coons of  the  Three-horned  Osmia,  especially 
the  female  cocoons,  she  attains  the  greatest 
development  that  I  know  of.  When  she  is- 
sues from  the  cocoons  of  the  Blue  Osmia 
(O.  cyanea,  KIRB.),  she  is  sometimes 
hardly  one-third  the  length  which  the  other 
Osmia  gives  her.  And  we  still  have  the  two 
sexes  —  that  goes  without  saying  —  and 
still  identically  the  same  species. 

Two  Anthidia,  working  in  resin,  A.  sep- 
temdentatum,  LATR.,  and  A.  bellicosum, 
LEP.,2  establish  their  domicile  in  old  Snail- 
shells.  The  second  harbours  the  Burnt 
Zonitis  (Z.  prceusta) .3  Amply  nourished 
this  Meloe  then  acquires  her  normal  size,  the 
size  in  which  she  usually  figures  in  the  col- 
lections. A  like  prosperity  awaits  her  when 
she  usurps  the  provisions  of  Megachile  seri- 
cans.4  But  the  imprudent  creature  some- 
times allows  itself  to  be  carried  away  to  the 
meagre  table  of  the  smallest  of  our  Anthidia 

1  The  Mason-bees:  chaps,  viii.,  x.  and  xi. —  Translator's 
Note. 

2  For   these   Resin-bees,   cf.   Bramble-bees   and   Others: 
chap.  x. —  Translator's  Note. 

8  Cf.   The  Glow-worm  and  Other  Beetles:  chap.  vi. — 
Translator's  Note. 

4  For  this  Bee,   the  Silky  Leaf-cutter,  cf.  Bramble-bees 
end  Others:  chap.  viii. —  Translator's  Note. 
239 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

(A.  scapulare,  LATR.),1  who  makes  her 
nests  in  dry  bramble-stems.  The  scanty  fare 
makes  a  wretched  dwarf  of  the  offspring  be- 
longing to  either  sex,  without  depriving  them 
of  any  of  their  racial  features.  We  still 
see  the  Burnt  Zonitis,  with  the  distinctive 
sign  of  the  species:  the  singed  patch  at  the 
tip  of  the  wing-cases. 

And  the  other  Meloidae  —  Cantharides, 
Cerocomae,  Mylabres  2 —  to  what  inequalities 
of  size  are  they  not  subject,  irrespective  of 
sex!  There  are  some  —  and  they  are  nu- 
merous —  whose  dimensions  fall  to  a  half,  a 
third,  a  quarter  of  the  regular  dimensions. 
Among  these  dwarfs,  these  misbegotten 
ones,  these  victims  of  atrophy,  there  are  fe- 
males as  well  as  males;  and  their  smallness 
by  no  means  cools  their  amorous  ardour. 
These  needy  creatures,  I  repeat,  have  a  hard 
life  of  it.  Whence  do  they  come,  these  di- 
minutive Beetles,  if  not  from  dining-rooms 
insufficiently  supplied  for  their  needs? 
Their  parasitical  habits  expose  them  to  harsh 
vicissitudes.  No  matter:  in  dearth  as  well 
as  in  abundance  the  two  sexes  appear  and 
the  specific  features  remain  unchanged. 

XA  Cotton-bee,  cf.  idem:  chap.  ix. —  Translator's  Note. 
2  For  these  Blister-beetles  or  Oil-beetles,  cf.   The  Glow- 
worm and  Other  Beetles:  chap.  vi. —  Translator's  Note. 
240 


Rationing  According  to  Sex 

It  is  unnecessary  to  linger  longer  over  this 
subject.  The  demonstration  is  completed. 
The  parasites  tell  us  that  changes  in  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  food  do  not  lead  to 
any  transformation  of  species.  Fed  upon 
the  larva  of  the  Three-horned  Osmia  or  of 
the  Blue  Osmia,  Anthrax  sinuata,  whether  of 
handsome  proportions  or  a  dwarf,  is  still 
Anthrax  sinuata;  fed  upon  the  allowance  of 
the  Anthidium  of  the  empty  Snail-shells,  the 
Anthidium  of  the  brambles,  the  Megachile 
or  doubtless  many  others,  the  Burnt  Zonitis 
is  still  the  Burnt  Zonitis.  Yet  variation  of 
diet  ought  to  be  a  very  potential  factor  in 
the  problem  of  progress  towards  another 
form.  Is  not  the  world  of  living  creatures 
ruled  by  the  stomach  ?  And  the  value  of  this 
factor  is  unity,  changing  nothing  in  the  pro- 
duct. 

The  same  parasites  tell  us  —  and  this  is 
the  chief  object  of  my  digression  —  that  ex- 
cess or  deficiency  of  nutriment  does  not  de- 
termine the  sex.  So  we  are  once  more  con- 
fronted with  the  strange  proposition,  which 
is  now  more  positive  than  ever,  that  the  in- 
sect which  amasses  provisions  in  proportion 
to  the  needs  of  the  egg  about  to  be  laid 
knows  beforehand  what  the  sex  of  this  egg 
will  be.  Perhaps  the  reality  is  even  more 
241 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

paradoxical  still.  I  shall  return  to  the  sub- 
ject after  discussing  the  Osmiae,  who  are  very 
weighty  witnesses  in  this  grave  affair.1 

1  Cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others:  chaps,  iii.  to  v.  The 
student  is  recommended  to  read  these  three  chapters  in 
conjunction  with  the  present  chapter,  to  which  they  form 
a  sequel,  with  that  on  the  Osmise  (chap.  ii.  of  the  above 
volume)  intervening. —  Translator's  Note. 


242 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    BEE-EATING   PHILANTHUS 

TO  meet  among  the  Wasps,  those  eager 
lovers  of  flowers-,  a  species  that  goes 
hunting  more  or  less  on  its  own  account  is 
certainly  a  notable  event.  That  the  larder 
of  the  grub  should  be  provided  with  prey  is 
natural  enough ;  but  that  the  provider,  whose 
diet  is  honey,  should  herself  make  use  of  the 
captives  is  anything  but  easy  to  understand. 
We  are  quite  astonished  to  see  a  nectar- 
drinker  become  a  blood-drinker.  But  our 
astonishment  ceases  if  we  consider  things 
more  closely.  The  double  method  of  feed- 
ing is  more  apparent  than  real:  the  crop 
which  fills  itself  with  sugary  liquid  does  not 
gorge  itself  with  game.  The  Odynerus, 
when  digging  into  the  body  of  her  prey,  does 
not  touch  the  flesh,  a  fare  absolutely  scorned 
as  contrary  to  her  tastes;  she  satisfies  her- 
self with  lapping  up  the  defensive  drop  which 
the  grub  1  distils  at  the  end  of  its  intestine. 

1The  Larva   of   Chrysomela  populi,  the  Poplar  Leaf- 
beetle.—  Translator's  Note. 

243 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

This  fluid  no  doubt  represents  to  her  some 
highly-flavoured  beverage  with  which  she 
seasons  from  time  to  time  the  staple  diet 
fetched  from  the  drinking-bar  of  the  flowers, 
some  appetizing  condiment  or  perhaps  - 
who  knows?  —  some  substitute  for  honey. 
Though  the  qualities  of  the  delicacy  escape 
me,  I  at  least  perceive  that  the  Odynerus 
does  not  covet  anything  else.  Once  its  jar 
is  emptied,  the  larva  is  flung  aside  as  worth- 
less offal,  a  certain  sign  of  a  non-carnivorous 
appetite.  Under  these  conditions,  the  per- 
secutor of  the  Chrysomela  ceases  to  surprise 
us  by  indulging  in  the  crying  abuse  of  a 
double  diet. 

We  even  begin  to  wonder  whether  other 
species  may  not  be  inclined  to  derive  a  di- 
rect advantage  from  the  hunting  imposed 
upon  them  for  the  maintenance  of  the  fam- 
ily. The  Odynerus'  method  of  work,  the 
splitting  open  of  the  anal  still-room,  is  too 
far  removed  from  the  obvious  procedure  to 
have  many  imitators;  it  is  a  secondary  de- 
tail and  impracticable  with  a  different  kind 
of  game.  But  there  is  sure  to  be  a  certain 
variety  in  the  direct  means  of  utilizing  the 
capture.  Why,  for  instance,  when  the  vic- 
tim paralysed  by  the  sting  contains  a  deli- 
cious broth  in  some  part  of  its  stomach, 
244 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

should  the  huntress  scruple  to  violate  her 
dying  prey  and  force  it  to  disgorge  without 
injuring  the  quality  of  the  provisions? 
There  must  be  those  who  rob  the  dead,  at- 
tracted not  by  the  flesh  but  by  the  exquisite 
contents  of  the  crop. 

In  point  of  fact,  there  are;  and  they  are 
even  numerous.  We  may  mention  in  the 
first  rank  the  Wasp  that  hunts  Hive-bees, 
the  Bee-eating  Philanthus  (P.  apivorus, 
LATR.).  I  long  suspected  her  of  perpe- 
trating these  acts  of  brigandage  on  her  own 
behalf,  having  often  surprised  her  glutton- 
ously licking  the  Bee's  honey-smeared  mouth; 
I  had  an  inkling  that  she  did  not  always  hunt 
solely  for  the  benefit  of  her  larvae.  The 
suspicion  deserved  to  be  confirmed  by  ex- 
periment. Also,  I  was  engaged  in  another 
investigation,  which  might  easily  be  con- 
ducted simultaneously  with  the  one  sug- 
gested: I  wanted  to  study,  with  all  the  lei- 
sure of  work  done  at  home,  the  operating- 
methods  employed  by  the  different  Hunting 
Wasps.  I  therefore  made  use,  for  the 
Philanthus,  of  the  process  of  experimenting 
under  glass  which  I  roughly  outlined  when 
speaking  of  the  Odynerus.  It  was  even  the 
Bee-huntress  who  gave  me  my  first  data  in 
this  direction.  She  responded  to  my  wishes 
245 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

with  such  zest  that  I  believed  myself  to  pos- 
sess an  unequalled  means  of  observing  again 
and  again,  even  to  excess,  what  is  so  difficult 
to  achieve  on  the  actual  spot.  Alas,  the  first- 
fruits  of  my  acquaintance  with  the  Philan- 
thus  promised  me  more  than  the  future  held 
in  store  for  me!  But  we  will  not  antici- 
pate; and  we  will  place  the  huntress  and  her 
game  together  under  the  bell-glass.  I 
recommend  this  experiment  to  whoever 
would  wish  to  see  with  what  perfection  in 
the  art  of  attack  and  defence  a  Hunting 
Wasp  wields  the  stiletto.  There  is  no  un- 
certainty here  as  to  the  result,  there  is  no 
long  wait:  the  moment  when  she  catches 
sight  of  the  prey  in  an  attitude  favourable 
to  her  designs,  the  bandit  rushes  forward 
and  kills.  I  will  describe  how  things  hap- 
pen. 

I  place  under  the  bell-glass  a  Philanthus 
and  two  or  three  Hive-bees.  The  prisoners 
climb  the  glass  wall,  towards  the  light;  they 
go  up,  come  down  again  and  try  to  get  out; 
the  vertical  polished  surface  is  to  them  a 
practicable  floor.  They  soon  quiet  down; 
and  the  spoiler  begins  to  notice  her  surround- 
ings. The  antennae  are  pointed  forwards, 
enquiringly;  the  hind-legs  are  drawn  up  with 
a  little  quiver  of  greed  in  the  tarsi;  the  head 
246 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

turns  to  right  and  left  and  follows  the  evo- 
lutions of  the  Bees  against  the  glass.  The 
miscreant's  posture  now  becomes  a  striking 
piece  of  acting:  you  can  read  in  it  the  fierce 
longings  of  the  creature  lying  in  ambush,  the 
crafty  waiting  for  the  moment  to  commit 
the  crime.  The  choice  is  made:  the  Philan- 
thus pounces  on  her  prey. 

Turn  by  turn  tumbling  over  and  tumbled, 
the  two  insects  roll  upon  the  ground.  The 
tumult  soon  abates;  and  the  murderess  pre- 
pares to  strangle  her  capture.  I  see  her 
adopt  two  methods.  In  the  first,  which  is 
more  usual  than  the  other,  the  Bee  is  lying 
on  her  back;  and  the  Philanthus,  belly  to 
belly  with  her,  grips  her  with  her  six  legs 
while  snapping  at  her  neck  with  her  mandi- 
bles. The  abdomen  is  now  curved  forward 
from  behind,  along  the  prostrate  victim,  feels 
with  its  tip,  gropes  about  a  little  and  ends 
by  reaching  the  under  part  of  the  neck. 
The  sting  enters,  lingers  for  a  moment  in 
the  wound;  and  all  is  over.  Without  re- 
leasing her  prey,  which  is  still  tightly  clasped, 
the  murderess  restores  her  abdomen  to  its 
normal  position  and  keeps  it  pressed  against 
the  Bee's. 

In  the  second  method,  the  Philanthus  op- 
erates standing.  Resting  on  her  hind-legs 
247 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

and  on  the  tips  of  her  unfurled  wings,  she 
proudly  occupies  an  erect  attitude,  with  the 
Bee  held  facing  her  between  her  four  front 
legs.  To  give  the  poor  thing  a  position 
suited  to  receive  the  dagger-stroke,  she  turns 
her  round  and  back  again  with  the  rough 
clumsiness  of  a  child  handling  its  doll.  Her 
pose  is  magnificent  to  look  at.  Solidly 
planted  on  her  sustaining  tripod,  the  two 
hinder  tarsi  and  the  tips  of  the  wings,  she 
at  last  crooks  her  abdomen  upwards  and 
again  stings  the  Bee  under  the  chin.  The 
originality  of  the  Philanthus'  posture  at  the 
moment  of  the  murder  surpasses  anything 
that  I  have  hitherto  seen. 

The  desire  for  knowledge  in  natural  his- 
tory has  its  cruel  side.  To  learn  precisely 
the  point  attacked  by  the  sting  and  to  make 
myself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  hor- 
rible talent  of  the  murderess,  I  have  investi- 
gated more  assassinations  under  glass  than 
I  would  dare  to  confess.  Without  a  single 
exception,  I  have  always  seen  the  Bee  stung 
in  the  throat.  In  the  preparations  for  the 
final  blow,  the  tip  of  the  abdomen  may  well 
come  to  rest  on  this  or  that  point  of  the 
thorax  or  abdomen;  but  it  does  not  stop  at 
any  of  these,  nor  is  the  sting  unsheathed,  as 
can  readily  be  ascertained.  Indeed,  once 
248 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

the  contest  is  opened,  the  Philanthus  becomes 
so  entirely  absorbed  in  her  operation  that 
I  can  remove  the  cover  and  follow  every 
vicissitude  of  the  tragedy  with  my  pocket- 
lens. 

After  recognizing  the  invariable  position 
of  the  wound,  I  bend  back  and  open  the 
articulation  of  the  head.  I  see  under  the 
Bee's  chin  a  white  spot,  measuring  hardly  a 
twenty-fifth  of  an  inch  square,  where  the 
horny  integuments  are  lacking  and  the  deli- 
cate skin  is  shown  uncovered.  It  is  here, 
always  here,  in  this  tiny  defect  in  the  armour, 
that  the  sting  enters.  Why  is  this  spot 
stabbed  rather  than  another?  Can  it  be 
the  only  vulnerable  point,  which  would  neces- 
sarily determine  the  thrust  of  the  lancet? 
Should  any  one  entertain  so  petty  a  thought, 
I  advise  him  to  open  the  articulation  of  the 
corselet,  behind  the  first  pair  of  legs.  He 
will  there  see  what  I  see :  the  bare  skin,  quite 
as  fine  as  under  the  neck,  but  covering  a 
much  larger  surface.  The  horny  breast- 
plate offers  no  wider  breach.  If  the  Philan- 
thus were  guided  in  her  operation  solely  by 
the  question  of  vulnerability,  it  is  here  cert- 
ainly that  she  ought  to  strike,  instead  of  per- 
sistently seeking  the  narrow  slit  in  the  neck. 
The  weapon  would  not  need  to  hesitate  and 
249 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

grope;  it  would  obtain  admission  into  the 
tissues  off-hand.  No,  the  stroke  of  the  lan- 
cet is  not  forced  upon  it  mechanically:  the 
assassin  scorns  the  large  defect  in  the  corse- 
let and  prefers  the  place  under  the  chin,  for 
eminently  logical  reasons  which  we  will  now 
attempt  to  unravel. 

Immediately  after  the  operation  I  take  the 
Bee  from  the  Philanthus.  What  strikes  me 
is  the  sudden  inertia  of  the  antennae  and  the 
mouth-parts,  organs  which  in  the  victims  of 
most  of  the  Hunting  Wasps  continue  to 
move  for  so  long  a  time.  There  are  here 
not  any  of  the  signs  of  life  to  which  I  have 
been  accustomed  in  my  old  studies  of  insect 
paralysis:  the  antennary  threads  waving 
slowly  to  and  fro,  the  palpi  quivering,  the 
mandibles  opening  and  closing  for  days, 
weeks  and  months  on  end.  At  most,  the 
tarsi  tremble  for  a  minute  or  two;  that  con- 
stitutes the  whole  death-struggle.  Com- 
plete immobility  ensues.  The  inference 
drawn  from  this  sudden  inertia  is  inevitable : 
the  Wasp  has  stabbed  the  cervical  ganglia. 
Hence  the  immediate  cessation  of  movement 
in  all  the  organs  of  the  head;  hence  the  real 
instead  of  the  apparent  death  of  the  Bee. 
The  Philanthus  is  a  butcher  and  not  a  para- 
lyser. 

250 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

This  is  one  step  gained.  The  murderess 
chooses  the  under  part  of  the  chin  as  the 
point  attacked  in  order  to  strike  the  princi- 
pal nerve-centres,  the  cephalic  ganglia,  and 
thus  to  da  away  with  life  at  one  blow.  When 
this  vital  seat  is  poisoned  by  the  toxin,  death 
is  instantaneous.  Had  the  Philanthus1  ob- 
ject been  simply  to  effect  paralysis,  the  sup- 
pression of  locomotor. movements,  she  would 
have  driven  her  weapon  into  the  flaw  in  the 
corselet,  as  the  Cerceres  do  with  the  Wee- 
vils, who  are  much  more  powerfully  arm- 
oured than  the  Bee.  But  her  intention  is  to 
kill  outright,  as  we  shall  see  presently;  she 
wants  a  corpse,  not  a  paralytic  patient. 
This  being  so,  we  must  agree  that  her  op- 
erating-method is  supremely  well-inspired: 
our  human  murderers  could  achieve  nothing 
more  thorough  or  immediate. 

We  must  also  agree  that  her  attitude  when 
attacking,  an  attitude  very  different  from 
that  of  the  paralysers,  is  infallible  in  its 
death-dealing  efficacy.  Whether  she  deliver 
her  thrust  lying  on  the  ground  or  standing 
erect,  she  holds  the  Bee  in  front  of  her, 
breast  to  breast,  head  to  head.  In  this  pos- 
ture all  that  she  need  do  is  to  curve  her 
abdomen  in  order  to  reach  the  gap  in  the 
neck  and  plunge  the  sting  with  an  upward 
251 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

slant  into  her  captive's  head.  Suppose  the 
two  insects  to  be  gripping  each  other  in  the 
reverse  attitude,  imagine  the  dirk  to  slant 
slightly  in  the  opposite  direction;  the  results 
would  be  absolutely  different  and  the  sting, 
driven  downwards,  would  pierce  the  first 
thoracic  ganglion  and  produce  merely  par- 
tial paralysis.  What  skill,  to  sacrifice  a 
wretched  Bee!  In  what  fencing-school  was 
the  slayer  taught  her  terrible  upward  blow 
under  the  chin? 

If  she  learnt  it,  how  is  it  that  her  victim, 
such  a  past  mistress  in  architecture,  such  an 
adept  in  socialistic  polity,  has  so  far  learnt 
no  corresponding  trick  to  serve  in  her  own 
defence?  She  is  as  powerful  as  her  execu- 
tioner; like  the  other,  she  carries  a  rapier, 
an  even  more  formidable  one  and  more  pain- 
ful, at  least  to  my  fingers.  For  centuries 
and  centuries  the  Philanthus  ha's  been  stor- 
ing her  away  in  her  cellars;  and  the  poor 
innocent  meekly  submits,  without  being 
taught  by  the  annual  extermination  of  her 
race  how  to  deliver  herself  from  the  ag- 
gressor by  a  well-aimed  thrust.  I  despair 
of  ever  understanding  how  the  assailant  has 
acquired  her  talent  for  inflicting  sudden 
death,  when  the  assailed,  who  is  better-armed 
and  quite  as  strong,  wields  her  dagger  any- 
252 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

how  and  therefore  ineffectively.  If  the  one 
has  learnt  by  prolonged  practice  in  attack, 
the  other  should  also  have  learnt  by  pro- 
longed practice  in  defence,  for  attack  and 
defence  possess  a  like  merit  in  the  fight  for 
life.  Among  the  theorists  of  the  day,  is 
there  one  clear-sighted  enough  to  solve  the 
riddle  for  us? 

If  so,  I  will  take  the  opportunity  of  put- 
ting to  him  a  second  problem  that  puzzles 
me :  the  carelessness,  nay,  more,  the  stupidity 
of  the  Bee  in  the  presence  of  the  Philanthus. 
You  would  be  inclined  to  think  that  the  vic- 
tim of  persecution,  learning  gradually  from 
the  misfortunes  suffered  by  her  family, 
would  show  distress  at  the  ravisher's  ap- 
proach and  at  least  attempt  to  escape.  In 
my  cages  I  see  nothing  of  the  sort.  Once 
the  first  excitement  due  to  incarceration  un- 
der the  bell-glass  or  the  wire-gauze  cover  has 
passed,  the  Bee  seems  hardly  to  trouble  about 
her  formidable  neighbour.  I  see  one  side 
by  side  with  the  Philanthus  on  the  same 
honeyed  thistle-head :  assassin  and  future  vic- 
tim are  drinking  from  the  same  flask.  I  see 
some  one  who  comes  heedlessly  to  enquire 
who  that  stranger  can  be,  crouching  in  wait 
on  the  table.  When  the  spoiler  makes  her 
rush,  it  is  usually  at  a  Bee  who  meets  her 
253 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

half-way  and,  so  to  speak,  flings  herself  into 
her  clutches,  either  thoughtlessly  or  out  of 
curiosity.  There  is  no  wild  terror,  no  sign 
of  anxiety,  no  tendency  to  make  off.  How 
comes  it  that  the  experience  of  the  ages, 
that  experience  which,  we  are  told,  teaches 
the  animal  so  many  things,  has  not  taught 
the  Bee  the  first  element  of  apiarian  wis- 
dom: a  deep-seated  horror  of  the  Philan- 
thus?  Can  the  poor  wretch  take  comfort 
by  relying  on  her  trusty  dagger?  But  she 
yields  to  none  in  her  ignorance  of  fencing; 
she  stabs  without  method,  at  random. 
However,  let  us  watch  her  at  the  supreme 
moment  of  the  killing. 

When  the  ravisher  makes  play  with  her 
sting,  the  Bee  does  the  same  with  hers  and 
furiously.  I  see  the  needle  now  moving  this 
way  or  that  way  in  space,  now  slipping,  vio- 
lently curved,  along  the  murderess'  convex 
surface.  These  sword-thrusts  have  no  seri- 
ous results.  The  manner  in  which  the  two 
combatants  are  at  grips  has  this  effect,  that 
the  Philanthus'  abdomen  is  inside  and  the 
Bee's  outside.  The  latter's  sting  therefore 
finds  under  its  point  only  the  dorsal  surface 
of  the  foe,  a  convex,  slippery  surface  and  so 
well  armoured  as  to  be  almost  invulnerable. 
There  is  here  no  •  breach  into  which  the 
254 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

weapon  can  slip  by  accident;  and  so  the 
operation  is  conducted  with  absolute  surgical 
safety,  notwithstanding  the  indignant  pro- 
tests of  the  patient. 

After  the  fatal  stroke  has  been  adminis- 
tered, the  murdjeress  remains  for  a  long  time 
belly  to  belly  with  the  dead,  for  reasons 
which  we  shall  shortly  perceive.  There  may 
now  be  some  danger  for  the  Philanthus. 
The  attitude  of  attack  and  defence  is  aban- 
doned; and  the  ventral  surface,  more  vulner- 
able than  the  other,  is  within  reach  of  the 
sting.  Now  the  deceased  still  retains  the 
reflex  use  of  her  weapon  for  a  few  minutes, 
as  I  learnt  to  my  cost.  Having  taken  the 
Bee  too  early  from  the  bandit  and  handling 
her  without  suspecting  any  risk,  I  received 
a  most  downright  sting.  Then  how  does  the 
Philanthus,  in  her  long  contact  with  the  but- 
chered Bee,  manage  to  protect  herself  against 
that  lancet,  which  is  bent  upon  avenging  the 
murder?  Is  there  any  chance  of  a  commu- 
tation of  the  death-penalty?  Can  an  acci- 
dent ever  happen  in  the  Bee's  favour?  Per- 
haps. 

One  incident  strengthens  my  faith  in  this 

perhaps.     I   had  placed   four   Bees   and   as 

many  Eristales  under  the  bell-glass  at  the 

same  time,  with  the  object  of  estimating  the 

255 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Philanthus'  entomological  knowledge  in  the 
matter  of  the  distinction  of  species.  Recip- 
rocal quarrels  break  out  in  the  mixed  co- 
lony. Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  the  fray,  the 
killer  is  killed.  She  tumbles  over  on  her 
back,  she  waves  her  legs;  she  is  dead.  Who 
struck  the  blow?  It  was  certainly  not  the 
excitable  but  pacific  Drone-fly;  it  was  one  of 
the  Bees,  who  struck  home  by  accident  du- 
ring the  thick  of  the  fight.  Where  and  how? 
I  cannot  tell.  The  incident  occurs  only  once 
in  my  notes,  but  it  throws  a  light  upon  the 
question.  The  Bee  is  capable  of  withstand- 
ing her  adversary;  she  can  then  and  there 
slay  her  would-be  slayer  with  a  thrust  of  the 
sting.  That  she  does  not  defend  herself  to- 
better  purpose,  when  she  falls  into  her  ene- 
my's clutches,  is  due  to  her  ignorance*  of 
fencing  and  not  to  the  weakness  of  her 
weapon.  And  here  again  arises,  more  in- 
sistently than  before,  the  question  which  I 
asked  above:  how  is  it  that  the  Philanthus 
has  learnt  for  offensive  what  the  Bee  has 
not  learnt  for  defensive  purposes?  I  see 
but  one  answer  to  the  difficulty:  the  one 
knows  without  having  learnt;  the  other  does- 
not  know  because  she  is  incapable  of  learn- 
ing. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  motives  that  in- 
256 


The  Bee-ea.ting  Philanthus 

duce  the  Philanthus  to  kill  her  Bee  instead 
of  paralysing  her.  When  the  crime  has  been 
perpetrated,  she  manipulates*  her  dead  vic- 
tim without  letting  go  of  it  for  a  moment, 
holding  its  belly  pressed  against  her  own  six 
legs.  I  see  her  recklessly,  very  recklessly, 
rooting  with  her  mandibles  in  the  articula- 
tion of  the  neck,  sometimes  also  in  the  larger 
articulation  of  the  corselet,  behind  the  first 
pair -of  legs,  an  articulation  of  whose  delicate 
membrane  she  is  perfectly  well  aware,  even 
though,  when  using  her  sting,  she  did  not 
take  advantage  of  this  point,  which  is  the 
most  readily  accessible  of  all.  I  see  her 
rough-handling  the  Bee's  belly,  squeezing  it 
against  her  own  abdomen,  crushing  it  in  the 
press.  The  recklessness  of  the  treatment  is 
striking;  it  shows  that  there  is  no  need  for 
keeping  up  precautions.  The  Bee  is  a 
corpse;  and  a  little  hustling  here  and  there 
will  not  deteriorate  its  quality,  provided 
there  be  no  effusion  of  blood.  In  point  of 
fact,  however  rough  the  handling,  I  fail  to 
discover  the  slightest  wound. 

These  various  manipulations,  especially 
the  squeezing  of  the  neck,  at  once  bring  about 
the  desired  results:  the  honey  in  the  crop 
mounts  to  the  Bee's  throat.  I  see  the  tiny 
drops  spurt  out,  lapped  up  by  the  glutton  as 
257 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

soon  as  they  appear.  The  bandit  greedily, 
over  and  over  again,  takes  the  dead  insect's 
lolling,  sugared  tongue  into  her  mouth;  then 
she  once  more  digs  into  the  neck  and  thorax, 
subjecting  the  honey-bag  to  the  renewed 
pressure  of  her  abdomen.  The*  syrup  comes 
and  is  instantly  lapped  up  and  lapped  up 
again.  In  this  way  the  contents  of  the  crop 
are  exhausted  in  small  mouthfuls,  yielded 
one  at  a  time.  This  odious  meal  at  the  ex- 
pense of  a  corpse's  stomach  is  taken  in  a 
sybaritic  attitude;  the  Philanthus  lies  on  her 
side  with  the  Bee  between  her  legs.  The 
atrocious  banquet  sometimes  lasts  for  half 
an  hour  or  longer.  At  last  the  drained  Bee 
is  discarded,  not  without  regret,  it  seems, 
for  from  time  to  time  I  see  the  manipulation 
renewed.  After  taking  a  turn  round  the 
top  of  the  bell-jar,  the  robber  of  fhe  dead 
returns  to  her  prey  and  squeezes  it,  licking 
its  mouth  until  the  last  trace  of  honey  has 
disappeared. 

This  frenzied  passion  of  the  Philanthus 
for  the  Bee's  syrup  is  declared  in  yet  an- 
other fashion.  When  the  first  victim  has 
been  sucked  dry,  I  slip  under  the  glass  a 
second  victim,  which  is  promptly  stabbed 
under  the  chin  and  then  subjected  to  press- 
ure to  extract  the  honey.  A  third  follows 
258 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

and  undergoes  the  same  fate  without  satis- 
fying the  bandit.  I  offer  a  fourth  and  a 
fifth.  They  are  all  accepted.  My  notes 
mention  one  Philanthus  who  in  front  of  my 
eyes  sacrificed  six  Bees  in  succession  and 
squeezed  out  their  crops  in  the  regulation 
manner.  The  slaughter  came  to  an  end  not 
because  the  glutton  was  sated  but  because 
my  functions  as  a  purveyor  were  becoming 
rather  difficult:  the  dry  month  of  August 
causes  the  insects  to  avoid  my  harmas,  which 
at  this  season  is  denuded  of  flowers.  Six 
crops  emptied  of  their  honey:  what  an  orgy! 
And  even  then  the  ravenous  creature  would 
very  likely  not  have  scorned  a  copious  addi- 
tional course,  had  I  possessed  the  means  of 
supplying  it ! 

There  is  no  reason  to  regret  this  break 
in  the  service;  the  little  that  I  have  said  is 
more  than  enough  to  prove  the  singular 
characteristics  of  the  Bee-slayer.  I  am  far 
from  denying  that  the  Philanthus  has  an  hon- 
est means  of  earning  her  livelihood;  I  find 
her  working  on  the  flowers  as  assiduously  as 
the  other  Wasps,  peacefully  drawing  her 
honeyed  beakers.  The  males  even,  possess- 
ing no  lancet,  know  no  other  manner  of  re- 
freshment. The  mothers,  without  neglect- 
ing the  table  d'hote  of  the  flowers,  support 
259 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

themselves  by  brigandage  as  well.     We  are 
told  of  the  Skua,  that  pirate  of  the  seas,  that 
he  swoops  down  upon  the  fishing  birds,  at 
the  moment  when  they  rise  from  the  water 
with  a  capture.     With  a  blow  of  the  beak 
delivered  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach  he  makes 
them  give  up  their  prey,  which  is  caught  by 
the  robber  in  mid-air.     The  despoiled  bird 
at  least  gets  off  with  nothing  worse  than  a 
contusion  at  the  base  of  the  throat.     The 
Philanthus,  a  less  scrupulous  pirate,  pounces 
on  the  Bee,  stabs  her  to  death  and  makes 
her  disgorge  in  order  to  feed  upon  her  honey. 
I  say  feed  and  I  do  not  withdraw  the  word. 
To  support  my  statement  I  have  better  rea- 
sons  than   those   set   forth   above.     In   the 
cages  in  which  various  Hunting  Wasps,  whose 
stratagems  of  war  I  am  engaged  in  studying, 
are  waiting  till  I  have  procured  the  desired 
prey  —  not  always  an  easy  thing  —  I  have 
planted  a  few  flower-spikes,  a  thistle-head  or 
two,   on  which  are  placed  drops  of  honey 
renewed  at  need.     Here  my  captives  come 
to  take  their  meals.     With  the  Philanthus, 
the  provision  of  honeyed  flowers,  though  fa- 
vourably received,  is  not  indispensable.     I 
have  only  to  let  a  few  live  Bees  into  her  cage 
from  time  to  time.     Half  a  dozen  a  day  is 
about  the  proper  allowance.     With  no  other 
260 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

food  than  the  syrup  extracted  from  the  slain, 
I  keep  my  insects  going  for  a  fortnight  or 
three  weeks. 

It  is  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff:  outside  my 
cages,  when  the  opportunity  offers,  the  Phi- 
lanthus must  also  kill  the  Bee  on  her  own  ac- 
count. The  Odynerus  asks  nothing  from 
the  Chrysomela  but  a  mere  condiment,  the 
aromatic  juice  of  the  rump;  the  other  ex- 
tracts from  her  victim  an  ample  supplement 
to  her  victuals,  the  crop  full  of  honey.  What 
a  hecatomb  of  Bees  must  not  a  colony  of 
these  freebooters  make  for  their  personal 
consumption,  not  to  mention  the  stored  pro- 
visions! I  recommend  the  Philanthus  to 
the  signal  vengeance  of  our  Bee-masters. 

Let  us  go  no  deeper  into  the  first  causes  of 
the  crime.  Let  us  accept  things  as  we  know 
them  for  the  moment,  with  their  apparent 
or  real  atrocity.  To  feed  herself,  the  Phi- 
lanthus levies  tribute  on  the  Bee's  crop. 
Having  made  sure  of  this,  let  us  consider  the 
bandit's  method  more  closely.  She  does 
not  paralyse  her  capture  according  to  the 
rites  customary  among  the  Hunting  Wasps; 
she  kills  it.  Why  kill  it?  If  the  eyes 
of  our  understanding  be  not  closed,  the 
need  for  sudden  death  is  clear  as  daylight. 
The  Philanthus  proposes  to  obtain  the  hon- 
261 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

eyed  broth  without  ripping  up  the  Bee,  a 
proceeding  which  would  damage  the  game 
when  it  is  hunted  on  behalf  of  the  larvae, 
without  resorting  to  the  murderous  extirpa- 
tion of  the  crop.  She  must,  by  able  han- 
dling, by  skilful  pressure,  make  the  Bee  dis- 
gorge, she  must  milk  her,  in  a  manner  of 
speaking.  Suppose  the  Bee  stung  behind 
the  corselet  and  paralysed.  That  deprives 
her  of  her  power  of  locomotion,  but  not  of 
her  vitality.  The  digestive  organs  in  parti- 
cular retain  or  very  nearly  retain  their  norm- 
al energy,  as  is  proved  by  the  frequent  ex- 
cretions that  take  place  in  the  paralysed  prey, 
so  long  as  the  intestine  is  not  empty,  as  is 
proved  above  all  by  the  victims  of  the  Lan- 
guedocian  Sphex,1  those  helpless  creatures 
which  I  used  to  keep  alive  for  forty  days  on 
end  with  a  soup  consisting  of  sugar  and  wa- 
ter. It  is  absurd  to  hope,  without  therapeu- 
tic means,  without  a  special  emetic,  to  coax 
a  sound  stomach  into  emptying  its  contents. 
The  stomach  of  the  Bee,  who  is  jealous  of 
her  treasure,  would  lend  itself  to  the  process 
even  less  readily  than  another.  When  para- 
lysed, the  insect  is  inert;  but  there  are  always 
internal  energies  and  organic  forces  which 
will  not  yield  to  the  manipulator's  pressure. 

!Cf.   The  Hunting  Wasp:  chaps,  viii.  to  x.—  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

262 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

The  Philanthus  will  nibble  at  the  throat  and 
squeeze  the  sides  in  vain :  the  honey  will  not 
rise  to  the  mouth  so  long  as  a  vestige  of  life 
keeps  the  crop  closed. 

Things  are  different  with  a  corpse.  The 
tension  is  relaxed,  the  muscles  become  slack, 
the  resistance  of  the  stomach  ceases  and  the 
bag  of  honey  is  emptied  by  the  robber's  vig- 
orous presure.  You  see,  therefore,  that  the 
Philanthus  is  expressly  obliged  to  inflict  a 
sudden  death,  which  will  do  away  at  once 
with  the  elasticity  of  the  organs.  Where  is 
the  lightning  stroke  to  be  delivered?  The 
slayer  knows  better  than  we  do,  when  she 
sticks  the  Bee  under  the  chin.  The  cerebral 
ganglia  are  reached  through  the  little  hole 
in  the  neck  and  death  ensues  immediately. 

The  relation  of  these  acts  of  brigandage 
cannot  satisfy  my  distressing  habit  of  follow- 
ing each  reply  obtained  with  a  fresh  quest- 
ion, until  the  granite  wall  of  the  unknowable 
rises  before  me.  If  the  Philanthus  is  an  ex- 
pert in  killing  Bees  and  emptying  crops 
swollen  with  honey,  this  cannot  be  merely  an 
alimentary  resource,  especially  when,  in  com- 
mon with  the  others,  she  has  the  banqueting- 
hall  of  the  flowers.  I  cannot  accept  her 
atrocious  talent  as  inspired  merely  by  the 
craving  for  a  feast  obtained  at  the  expense 
263 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

of  an  emptied  stomach.  Something  cert- 
ainly escapes  us:  the  why  and  wherefore  of 
that  crop  drained  dry.  A  creditable  motive 
may  lie  hidden  behind  the  horrors  which  I 
have  related.  What  is  it? 

Any  one  can  understand  the  vagueness  of 
the  observer's  mind  when  he  first  asks  him- 
self this  question.  The  reader  is  entitled  to 
be  treated  with  consideration.  I  will  spare 
him  the  recital  of  my  suspicions,  my  gropings 
and  my  failures  and  will  come  straight  to  the 
results  of  my  long  investigation.  Every- 
thing has  its  harmonious  reason  for  existence. 
I  am  too  fully  persuaded  of  this  to  believe 
that  the  Philanthus  pursues  her  habit  of  pro- 
faning corpses  solely  to  satisfy  her  greed. 
What  does  the  emptied  crop  portend?  May 
it  not  be  that  .  .  .  ?  Why,  yes.  .  .  .  After 
all,  who  knows?  .  .  .  Let  us  try  along  these 
lines. 

The  mother's  first  care  is  the  welfare  of 
the  family.  So  far,  we  have  seen  the  Phi- 
lanthus hunting  only  for  her  stomach's  sake; 
let  us  watch  her  hunting  as  a  mother.  No- 
thing is  easier  than  to  distinguish  the  two  per- 
formances. When  the  Wasp  wants  a  few 
good  mouthfuls  and  nothing  more,  she  scorn- 
fully abandons  the  Bee  after'picking  her  crop. 
The  Bee  is  to  her  a  worthless  remnant, 
264 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

which  will  shrivel  where  it  lies  and  be  dis- 
sected by  the  Ants.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
she  wants  to  stow  away  the  Bee  as  a  provi- 
sion for  her  larvae,  she  clasps  her  in  her  two 
intermediate  legs  and,  walking  on  the  other 
four,  goes  round  and  round  the  edge  of  the 
bell-glass,  seeking  for  an  outlet  through 
which  to  fly  off  with  her  prey.  When  she 
recognizes  the  circular  track  as  impossible, 
she  climbs  up  the  sides,  this  time  holding  the 
Bee  by  the  antennae  with  her  mandibles  and 
clinging  to  the  polished  and  perpendicular 
surface  with  her  six  feet.  She  reaches  the 
top  of  the  glass,  stays  for  a  little  while  in 
the  hollow  of  the  knob  at  the  top,  returns  to 
the  ground,  resumes  her  circling  and  her 
climbing  and  does  not  decide  to  relinquish 
her  Bee  until  she  has  stubbornly  attempted 
every  means  of  escape.  This  persistence  on 
her  part  to  retain  her  hold  on  the  cumbrous 
burden  tells  us  pretty  plainly  that  the  game 
would  go  straight  to  the  cells  if  the  Philan- 
thus had  her  liberty. 

Well,  these  Bees  intended  for  the  larvae  are 
stung  under  the  chin  like  the  others;  they  are 
real  corpses;  they  are  manipulated,  squeezed, 
drained  of  their  honey  exactly  as  the  others 
are.  In  all  these  respects,  there  is  no  differ- 
ence between  the  hunt  conducted  to  provide 
265 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

food  for  the  larvae  and  the  hunt  conducted 
merely  to  gratify  the  mother's  appetite. 

As  the  worries  of  captivity  might  well  be 
the  cause  of  a  few  anomalies  in  the  insect's 
actions,  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  enquire  how 
things  happen  in  the  open.  I  lay  in  wait 
near  some  colonies  of  Philanthi,  for  longer 
perhaps  than  the  question  deserved,  as  it 
had  already  been  settled  by  what  had  hap- 
pened under  glass.  My  tedious  watches 
were  rewarded  from  time  to  time.  Most  of 
the  huntresses  returned  home  immediately, 
with  the  Bee  under  their  abdomen;  some 
halted  on  the  brambles  hard  by;  and  here 
I  saw  them  squeezing  the  dead  Bee  and  mak- 
ing her  disgorge  the  honey,  which  was  greed- 
ily lapped  up.  After  these  preliminaries  the 
corpse  was  stored.  Every  doubt  is  there- 
fore removed:  the  provisions  of  the  larva 
are  first  carefully  drained  of  their  honey. 

Since  we  are  on  the  spot;  let  us  prolong 
our  stay  and  enquire  into  the  customs  of  the 
Philanthus  in  a  state  of  liberty.  Serving 
dead  prey,  which  goes  bad  in  a  few  days,  the 
Bee-huntress  cannot  adopt  the  method  of 
certain  insects  which  paralyse  a  number  of 
separate  heads  of  game  and  fill  the  cell  with 
provisions,  completing  the  ration  before  lay- 
ing the  egg.  She  needs  the  method  of  the 
266 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

Bembex,  whose  larva  receives  the  necessary 
nourishment  at  intervals,  as  it  grows  larger. 
The  facts  confirm  this  deduction.  .  Just  now 
I  described  as  tedious  my  watches  near  the 
colonies  of  the  Philanthi.  They  were  te- 
dious in  fact,  even  more  so  perhaps  than 
those  which  the  Bembeces  used  to  inflict  upon 
me  in  the  old  days.  Outside  the  burrows 
of  the  Great  Cerceris  and  other  Weevil- 
lovers,  outside  those  of  the  Yellow-winged 
Sphex,  the  Cricket-slayer,  there  is  plenty  of 
distraction,  thanks  to  the  bustling  movement 
of  the  hamlet.  The  mother  has  hardly  come 
back  home  before  she  goes  out  again,  soon 
returning  laden  with  a  new  prey  and  once 
more  setting  out  upon  the  chase.  The  go- 
ing and  coming  is  repeated  at  close  intervals 
until  the  warehouse  is  full. 

The  burrow  of  the  Philanthus  is  far  from 
showing  any  such  animation,  even  in  a  popu- 
lous colony.  In  vain  were  my  watches  pro- 
longed for  whole  mornings  or  afternoons;  it 
was  but  very  rarely  that  the  mother  whom 
I  had  seen  go  in  with  a  Bee  came  out  again 
for  a  second  expedition.  Two  captures  at 
most  by  the  same  huntress  was  all  that  I 
was  able  to  see  during  my  long  vigils.  Feed- 
ing from  day  to  day  involves  this  delibera- 
tion. Once  the  family  is  supplied  with  a 
267 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

sufficient  ration  for  the  moment,  the.  mother 
suspends  her  hunting-trips  until  further  need 
arises  and  occupies  herself  with  mining-work 
in  her  underground  house.  Cells  are  dug; 
I  see  the  rubbish  gradually  pushed  up  to  the 
surface.  Beyond  this  there  is  not  a  sign  of 
activity;  it  is  as  though  the  burrow  were 
deserted. 

The  inspection  of  the  site  is  no  easy  mat- 
ter. The  shaft  descends  to  a  depth  of  nearly 
three  feet  in  a  compact  soil,  either  vertically 
or  horizontally.  The  spade  and  pick, 
wielded  by  stronger  but  less  expert  hands 
than  mine,  are  indispensable,  for  which  rea- 
son the  process  of  excavation  is  far  from 
satisfying  me  fully.  At  the  end  of  this  long 
tunnel,  which  the  straw  which  I  use  for 
sounding  despairs  of  ever  reaching,  the  cells 
are  at  last  encountered,  oval  cavities  with  a 
horizontal  major  axis.  Their  number  and 
general  arrangement  escape  me. 

Some  of  them  already  contain  the  cocoon, 
which  is  slender  and  semitransparent,  like 
those  of  the  Cerceris,  and,  like  them,  sug- 
gests the  shape  of  certain  homoeopathic 
phials,  with  oval  bellies  surmounted  by  a 
tapering  neck.  The  cocoon  is  fastened  to 
the  end  of  the  cell  by  the  tip  of  this  neck, 
which  is  darkened  and  hardened  by  the 
268 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

larva's  excrement;  it  has  no  other  support. 
It  looks  like  a  short  club  fixed  by  the  end 
of  the  handle  along  the  horizontal  axis  of 
the  nest.  Other  cells  contain  the  larva  in  a 
more  or  less  advanced  stage.  The  grub  is 
munching  the  last  morsel  served  to  it,  with 
the  scraps  of  the  victuals  already  consumed 
lying  around  it.  Others  lastly  show  me  a 
Bee,  one  only,  still  untouched  and  bearing  an 
egg  laid  on  her  breast.  This  is  the  first  par- 
tial ration;  the  others  will  come  as  and  when 
the  grub  grows  larger.  My  anticipations 
are  thus  confirmed :  following  the  example 
of  the  Bembeces,  the  Fly-killers,  the  Phi- 
lanthus, the  Bee-killer,  lays  her  egg  on  the 
first  piece  warehoused  and  at  intervals  adds 
to  her  nurselings'  repast. 

The  problem  of  the  dead  game  is  solved. 
There  remains  this  other  problem,  one  of  in- 
comparable interest:  why  are  the  Bees  robbed 
of  their  honey  before  being  served  to  the 
larvae?  I  have  said  and  I  say  again  that  the 
killing  and  squeezing  cannot  be  explained 
and  excused  simply  by  reference  to  the  Phi- 
lanthus' love  of  gormandizing.  Robbing 
the  worker  of  her  booty  is  nothing  out  of 
the  way:  we  see  it  daily;  but  cutting  her 
throat  in  order  to  empty  her  stomach  is 
going  beyond  a  joke.  And,  as  the  Bees 
269 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

packed  away  in  the  cellar  are  squeezed  dry 
just  as  much  as  the  others,  the  thought  oc- 
curs to  my  mind  that  a  rumpsteak  with  jam 
is  not  to  everybody's  liking  and  that  the 
game  stuffed  with  honey  might  well  be  a  dis- 
tasteful or  even  unwholesome  dish  for  the 
Philanthus'  larvae.  What  will  the  grub  do 
when,  sated  with  blood  and  meat,  it  finds 
the  Bee's  honey-bag  under  its  mandibles  and 
especially  when,  nibbling  at  random,  it  rips 
open  the  crop  and  spoils  its  venison  with 
syrup?  Will  it  thrive  on  the  mixture? 
Will  the  little  ogre  pass  without  repugnance 
from  the  gamy  flavour  of  a  carcass  to  the 
scent  of  flowers?  A  blunt  statement  or 
denial  would  serve  no  purpose.  We  must 
see.  Let  us  see. 

I  rear  some  young  Philanthus-grubs, 
already  waxing  large;  but,  instead  of  sup- 
plying them  with  the  prey  taken  from  the 
burrows,  I  give  them  game  of  my  own  catch- 
ing, game  replete  with  nectar  from  the  rose- 
maries. My  Bees,  whom  I  kill  by  crush- 
ing their  heads,  are  readily  accepted;  and  I 
at  first  see  nothing  that  corresponds  with 
my  suspicions.  Then  my  nurselings  languish, 
disdain  their,  food,  give  a  careless  bite  here 
and  there  and  end  by  perishing,  from  the 
first  to  the  last,  beside  their  unfinished  vic- 
270 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

tuals.  All  my  attempts  miscarry :  I  do  not 
once  succeed  in  rearing  my  larvae  to  the  stage 
of  spinning  the  cocoon.  And  yet  I  am  no 
novice  in  the  functions  of  a  foster-father. 
How  many  pupils  have  not  passed  through 
my  hands  and  reached  maturity  in  my  old 
sardine-boxes  as  comfortably  as  in  their  na- 
tural burrows ! 

I  will  not  draw  rash  conclusions  from  this 
check;  lam  conscientious  enough  to  ascribe  it 
to  another  cause.  It  may  be  that  the  at- 
mosphere of  my  study  and  the  dryness  of 
the  sand  serving  as  a  bed  have  had  a  bad 
effect  on  my  charges,  whose  tender  skins  are 
accustomed  to  the  warm,  moisture  of  the 
subsoil.  Let  us  therefore  try  another  ex- 
pedient. 

It  is  hardly  feasible  to  decide  positively 
by  the  methods  which  I  have  been  following 
whether  the  honey  is  or  is  not  repugnant  to 
the  grubs  of  the  Philanthus.  The  first 
mouthfuls  consist  of  meat;  and  then  nothing 
particular  occurs :  it  is  the  natural  diet.  The 
honey  is  met  with  later,  when  the  morsel  has 
been  largely  bitten  into.  If  hesitation  and 
lack  of  appetite  are  displayed  at  this  stage, 
they  come  too  late  in  the  day  to  be  conclu- 
sive: the  larva's  discomfort  may  be  due  to 
other,  known  or  unknown,  causes.  The 
271 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

thing  to  do  would  be  to  offer  the  grub  honey 
from  the  first,  before  artificial  rearing  has 
affected  its  appetite.  It  is  useless,  of  course, 
to  make  the  attempt  with  pure  honey:  no  car- 
nivorous creature  would  touch  it,  though  it 
were  starving.  The  jam-sandwich  is  the 
only  device  favourable  to  my  plans,  a  meagre 
jam-sandwich,  that  is  to  say,  the  dead  Bee 
lightly  smeared  or  varnished  with  honey  by 
means  of  a  camel's-hair  pencil. 

Under  these  conditions,  the  problem  is 
solved  with  the  first  few  mouthfuls.  The 
grub  that  has  bitten  into  the  honeyed  prey 
draws  back  in  disgust,  hesitates  a  long  time 
and  then,  urged  by  hunger,  begins  again, 
tries  this  side  and  that  and  ends  by  refusing 
to  touch  the  dish.  For  a  few  days  it  pines 
away  on  top  of  its  almost  intact  provisions; 
then  it  dies.  All  that  are  subjected  to  this 
regimen  succumb.  Do  they  merely  perish  of 
inanition  in  the  presence  of  an  unaccustomed 
food,  which  revolts  their  appetite,  or  are 
they  poisoned  by  the  small  quantity  of  honey 
absorbed  with  the  early  mouthfuls?  I  can- 
not tell.  The  fact  remains  that,  whether 
poisonous  or  repugnant,  the  Bee  in  the  state 
of  bread  and  jam  is  death  to  them;  and  this 
result  explains,  more  clearly  than  the  un- 
272 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

favourable  circumstance  of  my  former  ex- 
periment, my  failures  with  the  Bee  that  had 
not  been  made  to  disgorge. 

This  refusal  to  touch  the  unwholesome  or 
distasteful  honey  is  connected  with  princi- 
ples of  nutrition  which  are  too  general  to 
constitute  a  gastronomic  peculiarity  of  the 
Philanthus.  The  other  carnivorous  larvae, 
at  least  in  the  order  of  the  Hymenoptera,  are 
bound  to  share  it.  Let  us  try.  We  will  go 
to  work  as  before.  I  unearth  the  larvae 
when  they  have  attained  a  medium  size,  to 
avoid  the  weakness  of  infancy;  I  take  away 
the  natural  provisions,  smear  the  carcases 
separately  with  honey  and,  when  this  is  done, 
restore  its  victuals  to  each  of  the  grubs.  I 
had  to  make  a  choice:  not  every  subject  was 
equally  suited  to  my  experiments.  I  must 
reject  the  larvae  which  are  fed  on  one  fat 
joint,  such  as  those  of  the  Scolia.  The  grub 
in  fact  attacks  its  prey  at  a  determined  point, 
dips  its  head  and  neck  into  the  insect's  body, 
rooting  skilfully  in  the  entrails  to  keep  the 
game  fresh  until  the  end  of  the  meal,  and 
does  not  withdraw  from  the  breach  until  the 
whole  skin  is  emptied  of  its  contents. 

To  make  it  let  go  with  the  object  of  coat- 
ing the  inside  of  the  venison  with  honey  had 
273 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

two  drawbacks :  I  should  be  compromising 
the  lingering  vitality  which  saves  the  insect 
that  is  being  devoured  from  going  bad  and, 
at  the  same  time,  I  should  be  disturbing  the 
delicate  art  of  the  devouring  insect,  which, 
if  removed  from  the  lode  which  it  was  work- 
ing, would  no  longer  be  able  to  recover  it 
or  to  distinguish  between  the  lawful  and  the 
unlawful  morsels.  The  larva  of  the  Scolia, 
consuming  its  Cetonia-grub,  has  taught  us  all 
that  we  want  to  know  on  this  subject  in  my 
earlier  volume.1  The  only  acceptable  larvae 
are  those  supplied  with  a  heap  of  small  in- 
sects, which  are  attacked  without  any  spe- 
cial art,  dismembered  at  random  and  eaten 
up  quickly.  Among  these  I  have  tested  such 
as  chance  threw  in  my  way:  those  of  various 
Bembeces,  all  fed  on  Flies;  those  of  the  Pa- 
larus,  whose  bill  of  fare  consists  of  a  very 
large  assortment  of  Hymenoptera;  those  of 
the  Tarsal  Tachytes,  supplied  with  young 
Locusts;  those  of  the  Nest-building  Odyne- 
rus,  furnished  with  Chrysomela-grubs;  those 
of  the  Sand  Cerceris,  endowed  with  a  pinch 
of  Weevils.  A  goodly  variety,  as  you  see, 
of  consumers  and  consumed.  Well,  to  all  of 

1  Chapters  II.  to  V.  of  the  present  volume  contain  the 
Tvhole  of  the  matter  referred  to  above. —  Translator's  Note. 
274 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

these  the  seasoning  with  honey  proved  fatal. 
Whether  poisoned  or  disgusted,  they  all  died 
in  a  few  days. 

A  strange  result  indeed !  Honey,  the  nec- 
tar of  the  flowers,  the  sole  diet  of  the  Bee- 
tribe  in  both  its  forms  and  the  sole  resource 
of  the  Wasp  in  her  adult  form,  is  to  the 
larvae  of  the  latter  an  object  of  insurmount- 
able repugnance  and  probably  a  toxic  dish. 
Even  the  transformation  of  the  nymphosis 
surprises  me  less  than  this  inversion  of  the 
appetite.  What  happens  in  the  insect's 
stomach  to  make  the  adult  seek  passionately 
what  the  youngster  refused  lest  it  should 
die?  This  is  not  a  question  of  organic  de- 
bility unable  to  endure  a  too  substantial,  too 
hard,  too  highly  spiced  dish.  The  grub  that 
gnaws  the  Cetonia-larva,  that  generous  piece 
of  butcher's  meat;  the  glutton  that  crunches 
its  batch  of  tough  Locusts;  the  one  that  bat- 
tens on  nitrobenzine-flavoured  game :  they 
certainly  own  unfastidious  gullets  and  ac- 
commodating stomachs.  And  these  robust 
eaters  allow  themselves  to  die  of  hunger  or 
digestive  troubles  because  of  a  drop  of  syrup, 
the  lightest  food  imaginable,  suited  to  the 
weakness  of  extreme  youth  and  a  feast  for 
the  adult  besides  !  What  a  gulf  of  obscurity 
in  the  stomach  of  a  wretched  grub ! 
275 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

These  gastronomical  researches  called 
for  a  counterexperiment.  The  carnivorous 
larva  is  killed  by  honey.  Conversely,  is  the 
mellivorous  larva  killed  by  animal  food? 
Reservations  are  needful  here,  as  in  the  pre- 
vious tests.  We  should  be  courting  a  flat 
refusal  if  we  offered  a  pinch  of  Locusts  to 
the  larvae  of  the  Anthophora  or  the  Osmia,1 
for  instance.  The  honey-fed  insect  would 
not  bite  into  it.  There  would  be  no  use 
whatever  in  trying.  We  must  find  the  equiv- 
alent of  the  jam-sandwich  aforesaid;  in 
other  words,  we  must  give  the  larva  its  natur- 
al fare  with  a  mixture  of  animal  food.  The 
addition  made  by  my  artifices  shall  be  albu- 
men, as  found  in  the  egg  of  the  Hen,  albu- 
men the  isomer  of  fibrin,  which  is  the  essen- 
tial factor  in  any  form  of  prey. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Three-horned  Os- 
mia lends  herself  most  admirably  to  my 
plans,  because  of  her  dry  honey,  consisting 
for  the  greater  part  of  floury  pollen.  I 
therefore  knead  this  honey  with  albumen, 
graduating  the  dose  until  its  weight  largely 
exceeds  that  of  the  flour.  In  this  way  I 
obtain  pastes  of  different  degrees  of  con- 
sistency, but  all  firm  enough  to  bear  the  larva 

1  For    both    these    Wild    Bees    cf.    Bramble-bees    and 
Others:  passim. —  Translator's  Note. 
276 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

without  danger  of  immersion.  With  too 
fluid  a  mixture  there  would  be  a  risk  of  death 
by  drowning.  Lastly  I  install  a  moderately- 
developed  larva  on  each  of  my  albuminous 
cakes. 

The  dish  of  my  inventing  does  not  incite 
dislike:  far  from  it.  The  grubs  attack  it 
without  hesitation  and  consume  it  with  every 
appearance  of  the  usual  appetite.  Things 
could  not  go  better  if  the  food  had  not  been 
altered  by  my  culinary  recipes.  Everything 
goes  down,  including  the  morsels  in  which 
I  feared  that  I  had  overdone  the  addition 
of  albumen.  And  —  an  even  more  import- 
ant point  —  the  Osmia-larvas  fed  in  this 
manner  attain  their  normal  dimensions  and 
spin  their  cocoons,  from  which  adult  insects 
issue  in  the  following  year.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  albuminous  regimen,  the  cycle  of  the 
evolution  is  achieved  without  impediment. 

What  are  we  to  conclude  from  all  this? 
I  feel  greatly  embarrassed.  Omne  vivum 
ex  ovo,  the  physiologists  tell  us.  Every  ani- 
mal is  carnivorous,  in  its  first  beginnings :  it 
is  formed  and  nourished  at  the  cost  of  its 
egg,  in  which  albumen  predominates.  The 
highest,  the  mammal,  adheres  to  this  diet  for 
a  long  time :  it  has  its  mother's  milk,  rich  in 
casein,  another  isomer  of  albumen.  The 
277 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

gramnivorous  nestling  is  first  fed  on  grubs, 
which  are  better  adapted  to  the  niceties  of 
its  stomach;  many  of  the  minutest  new-born 
creatures,  being  at  once  left  to  their  own  de- 
vices, take  to  animal  food.  In  this  way  the 
original  method  of  nourishment  is  continued 
for  all  alike:  the  method  which  allows  flesh 
to  be  made  from  flesh  and  blood  from  blood, 
with  no  chemical  process  beyond  the  simplest 
modification.  At  maturity,  when  the  stom- 
ach has  acquired  its  full  strength,  vegetable 
food  is  adopted,  involving  a  more  compli- 
cated chemistry  but  easier  to  obtain.  Milk 
is  followed  by  fodder,  worms  by  seeds,  the 
prey  in  the  burrow  by  the  nectar  of  the  flow- 
ers. 

This  supplies  a  partial  explanation  of  the 
twofold  diet  of  the  Hymenoptera  with  car- 
nivorous larvae :  meat  first,  honey  next.  But 
then  the  note  of  interrogation  is  shifted.  It 
stood  elsewhere;  it  now  stands  here.  Why 
is  the  Osmia,  who  as  a  larva  fares  so  well 
on  albumen,  fed  on  honey  at  the  start? 
Why  do  the  Bee-tribe  receive  a  vegetable 
diet  when  the  other  members  of  the  order 
receive  an  animal  diet? 

If  I  were  a  believer  in  evolution,  I  should 
say  yes,  by  the  fact  of  its  germ,  every  animal 
is  originally  carnivorous.  The  insect  in  par- 
278 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

ticular  starts  with  albuminoid  materials. 
Many  larvae  adhere  to  the  igg-food,  many 
adult  insects  do  likewise.  But  the  struggle 
to  fill  the  belly,  which  after  all  is  the  strug- 
gle for  life,  demands  something  better  than 
the  precarious  hazards  of  the  chase.  Man, 
at  first  a  ravenous  hunter  after  game, 
brought  the  flock  into  existence  and  turned 
shepherd  to  avoid  a  time  of  dearth.  An 
even  greater  progress  inspired  him  to  scrape 
the  earth  and  to  sow  seed,  which  assures 
him  of  a  living.  The  evolution  from  scarcity 
to  moderation  and  from  moderation  to  plenty 
has  led  to  the  resources  of  husbandry. 

The  animals  forestalled  us  this  path  of 
progress.  The  ancestors  of  the  Philanthus, 
in  the  remote  ages  of  the  lacustri?n  tertiary 
formations,  lived  by  prey  in  both  the  larval 
and  the  adult  forms :  they  hunted  for  them- 
selves as  well  as  for  the  family.  They  did 
not  confine  themselves  to  emptying  the  Bee's 
crop,  as  their  descendants  do  to  this  day: 
they  devoured  the  deceased.  From  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end  they  remained  flesh-eaters. 
Later,  fortunate  innovators,  whose  race  sup- 
planted the  laggards,  discovered  an  inex- 
haustible nourishment,  obtained  without 
dangerous  conflicts  or  laborious  search:  the 
sugary  secretions  of  the  flowers.  The  costly 
279 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

habit  of  living  on  prey,  which  does  not  fa- 
vour large  populations,  was  maintained  for 
the  feeble  larvae;  but  the  vigorous  adult 
broke  herself  of  it  to  lead  an  easier  and  more 
prosperous  life.  Thus,  gradually,  was 
formed  the  Philanthus  of  our  day;  thus  was 
acquired  the  twofold  diet  of  the  various 
predatory  insects  our  contemporaries. 

The  Bee  has  done  better  still:  from  the 
moment  of  leaving  the  egg  she  delivered 
herself  completely  from  food-stuffs  the  ac- 
quisition of  which  depended  on  chance. 
She  discovered  honey,  the  grubs'  food.  Re- 
nouncing the  chase  for  ever  and  becoming  an 
agriculturist  pure  and  simple,  the  insect  at- 
tains a  degree  of  physical  and  moral  pros- 
perity which  the  predatory  species  are  far 
from  sharing.  Hence  the  flourishing  col- 
onies of  the  Anthophorae,  the  Osmiae,  the 
Eucerae,1  the  Halicti  and  other  honey-manu- 
facturers, whereas  the  predatory  insects 
work  in  isolation;  hence  the  societies  in  which 
the  Bee  displays  her  wonderful  tendencies, 
the  supreme  expression  of  instinct. 

This  is  what  I  should  say  if  I  belonged  to 
that  school.  It  all  forms  a  chain  of  very 
logical  deductions  and  proffers  itself  with  a 

1 A    genus    of    long-horned    Burrowing    Bees. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

280 


The  Bee-eating  Philanthus 

certain  air  of  likelihood  which  we  should  be 
glad  to  find  in  a  host  of  evolutionist  argu- 
ments put  forward  as  irrefutable..  Well,  I 
will  make  a  present  of  my  deductive  views, 
without  regret,  to  whoever  cares  to  have 
them:  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  them; 
and  I  confess  my  profound  ignorance  of  the 
origin  of  the  twofold  diet. 

What  I  do  understand  more  clearly,  after 
all  these  investigations,  is  the  tactics  of  the 
Philanthus.  When  witnessing  her  ferocious 
feasting,  the  real  reason  of  which  was  un- 
known to  me,  I  heaped  the  most  ill-sounding 
epithets  upon  her,  calling  her  a  murderess, 
a  bandit,  a  pirate,  a  robber  of  the  dead. 
Ignorance  is  always  evil-tongued;  the  man 
who  does  not  know  indulges  in  rude  asser- 
tions and  mischievous  interpretations.  Now 
that  my  eyes  have  been  opened  to  the  facts, 
I  hasten  to  apologize  and  to  restore  the  Phi- 
lanthus to  her  place  in  my  esteem.  In  drain- 
ing the  crops  of  her  Bees  the  mother  is  per- 
forming the  most  praiseworthy  of  all  ac- 
tions: she  is  protecting  her  family  against 
poison.  If  she  happens  to  kill  on  her  own 
account  and  to  abandon  the  corpse  after  mak- 
ing it  disgorge,  I  dare  not  reckon  this  against 
her  as  a  crime.  When  the  habit  has  been 
formed  of  emptying  the  Bee's  crop  with  a 
281 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

good  motive,  there  is  a  great  temptation  to 
do  it  again  with  no  other  excuse  than  hunger. 
Besides,  who  knows?  Perhaps  there  is  al- 
ways at  the  back  of  her  hunting  some  thought 
of  game  which  might  be  useful  for  the  larvae. 
Although  not  carried  into  effect,  the  inten- 
tion excuses  the  deed. 

I  therefore  withdraw  my  epithets  in  order 
to  admire  the  insect's  maternal  logic  and  to 
hold  it  up  to  the  admiration  of  others.  The 
honey  would  be  pernicious  to  the  health  of 
the  larvae.  How  does  the  mother  know  that 
the  syrup,  a  treat  for  her,  is  unwholesome 
for  her  young?  To  this  question  our  sci- 
ence offers  no  reply.  The  honey,  I  say, 
would  imperil  the  grubs'  lives.  The  Bee 
must  therefore  first  be  made  to  disgorge. 
The  disgorging  must  be  effected  without 
lacerating  the  victim,  which  the  nurseling 
must  receive  in  the  fresh  state;  and  the 
operation  is  impracticable  on  a  paralysed  in- 
sect because  of  the  resistance  of  the  stom- 
ach. The  Bee  must  therefore  be  killed  out- 
right instead  of  being  paralysed,  or  the 
honey  will  not  be  voided.  Instantaneous 
death  can  be  inflicted  only  by  wounding  the 
primordial  centre  of  life.  The  sting  must 
therefore  aim  at  the  cervical  ganglia,  the 
seat  of  innervation  on  which  the  rest  of  the 
282 


The  Bee-Eating  Philanthus 

organism  depends.  To  reach  them  there  is 
only  one  way,  through  the  little  gap  in  the 
throat.  It  is  here  therefore  that  the  sting 
must  be  inserted;  and  it  is  here  in  fact  that 
it  is  inserted,  in  a  spot  hardly  as  large  as  the 
twenty-fifth  of  an  inch  square.  Suppress  a 
single  link  of  this  compact  chain,  and  the 
Bee-fed  Philanthus  becomes  impossible. 

That  honey  is  fatal  to  carnivorous  larvae 
is  a  fact  which  teems  with  consequences. 
Several  Hunting  Wasps  feed  their  families 
upon  Bees.  These  include,  to  my  know- 
ledge, the  Crowned  Philanthus  (P.  corona- 
tus,  FAB.),  who  lines  her  burrows  with  big 
Halicti;  the  Robber  Philanthus  (P.  raptor, 
LEP.),  who  chases  all  the  smaller-sized  Ha- 
licti, suited  to  her  own  dimensions,  indiffer- 
ently; the  Ornate  Cerceris  (C.  ornata, 
FAB.),  another  passionate  lover  of  Halicti; 
and  the  Palarus  (P.  flavipes,  FAB.),  who, 
with  a  curious  eclecticism,  stacks  in  her  cells 
the  greater  part  of  the  Hymenopteron  clan 
that  does  not  exceed  her  powers.  What  do 
these  four  huntresses  and  the  others  of  sim- 
ilar habits  do  with  their  victims  whose  crops 
are  more  or  less  swollen  with  honey?  They 
must  follow  the  example  of  the  Bee-eating 
Philanthus  and  make  them  disgorge,  lest 
their  family  perish  of  a  honeyed  diet;  they 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

must  manipulate  the  dead  Bee,  squeeze  her 
and  drain  her  dry.  Everything  goes  to  show 
it.  I  leave  it  to  the  future  to  display  these 
dazzling  proofs  of  my  doctrine  in  their 
proper  light. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  METHOD  OF  THE  AMMOPHIL^  1 

MY  readers  may  differ  in  appraising  the 
comparative  value  of  the  trifling  dis- 
coveries which  entomology  owes  to  my  la- 
bours. The  geologist,  the  recorder  of 
forms,  will  prefer  the  hypermetamorphosis 
of  the  Oil-beetles,2  the  development  of  the 
Anthrax3  or  larval  dimorphism;  the  em- 
bryogenist,  searching  into  the  mysteries  of 
the  egg,  will  have  some  esteem  for  my  en- 
quiries into  the  egg-laying  habits  of  the 
Osmia;4  the  philospher,  racking  his  brain 
over  the  nature  of  instinct,  will  award  the 
palm  to  the  operations  of  the  Hunting 
Wasps.  I  agree  with  the  philosopher. 
Without  hesitation,  I  would  abandon  all  the 
rest  of  my  entomological  baggage  for  this 
discovery,  which  happens  to  be  the  earliest 

1  For    these    Sand-wasps,    cf.     The    Hunting    Wasps: 
chaps,  xiii.  and  xviii.  to  xx. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  The  chapter  treating  of  this  subject  has  not  yet  been 
translated   into  English   and  will   appear  in   a   later  vol- 
ume.—  Translator's  Note. 

3Cf.  The  Life  of  the  Fly:  chap,  it— Translator's  Note. 
4  Cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others:  chap.  iv. —  Translator's 
Note. 

283 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

in  date  and  that  of  which  I  have  the  fondest 
memories.  Nowhere  do  I  find  a  more  bril- 
liant, more  lucid,  more  eloquent  proof  of 
the  intuitive  wisdom  of  instinct;  nowhere 
does  the  theory  of  evolution  suffer  a  more 
obstinate  check. 

Darwin,  a  true  judge,  made  no  mistake 
about  it.  He  greatly  dreaded  the  problem 
of  the  instincts.  My  first  results  in  particu- 
lar left  him  very  anxious.  If  he  had  known 
the  tactics  of  the  Hairy  Ammophila,  the 
Mantis-hunting  Tachytes,  the  Bee-eating 
Philanthus,  the  Calicurgi  and  other  ma- 
rauders, his  anxiety,  I  believe,  would  have 
ended  in  a  frank  admission  that  he  was  un- 
able to  squeeze  instinct  into  the  mould  of  his 
formula.  Alas,  the  philosopher  of  Down  x 
quitted  this  world  when  the  discussion,  with 
experiments  to  support  it,  had  barely  begun : 
a  method  superior  to  any  argument!  The 
little  that  I  had  published  at  that  time  left 
him  with  still  some  hope  of  an  explanation. 
In  his  eyes,  instinct  was  always  an  acquired 
habit.  The  predatory  Wasps  killed  their 
prey  at  first  by  stabbing  it  at  random,  here 

3  Charles  Robert  Darwin,  b.  the  i2th  of  February,  1809, 
at  Shrewsbury,  died  at  Down,  in  Kent,  on  the  igth  of 
April,  1882.  For  an  account  of  certain  experiments  which 
the  author  conducted  on  his  behalf,  cf.  The  Mason-bees: 
chap.  iv. —  Translator's  Note. 
286 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

and  there,  in  the  softest  parts.  By  degrees 
they  found  the  spot  where  the  sting  was  most 
effectual;  and  the  habit  once  formed  became 
a  true  instinct.  Transitions  from  one  me- 
thod of  operation  to  the  other,  intermediary 
changes,  sufficed  to  bolster  up  these  sweeping 
assertions.  In  a  letter  of  the  i6th  of  April, 
1 88 1,  he  asks  G.  J.  Romanes  to  consider  the 
problem  : 

"  I  do  not  know,"  he  says  "  whether  you 
will  discuss  in  your  book  on  the  mind  of  ani- 
mals any  of  the  more  complex  and  wonder- 
ful instincts.  It  is  unsatisfactory  work,  as 
there  can  be  no  fossilised  instincts,  and  the 
sole  guide  is  their  state  in  other  members 
of  the  same  order,  and  mere  probability. 

"  But  if  you  do  discuss  any  (and  it  will 
perhaps  be  expected  of  you),  I  should  think 
that  you  could  not  select  a  better  case  than 
that  of  the  sand-wasps  which  paralyse  their 
prey  as  described  by  Fabre  in  his  wonderful 
paper  in  the  Annales  des  sciences  naturelles, 
and  since  amplified  in  his  admirable  Sou- 
venirs. .  .  ." 

I  thank  you,  O  illustrious  master,  for  your 
eulogistic  expressions,  proving  the  keen  in- 
terest which  you  took  in  my  studies  of  in- 

287 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

stinct,  no  ungrateful  task  —  far  from  it  — 
when  we  tackle  it  as  it  should  be  tackled: 
from  the  front,  with  the  aid  of  facts,  and  not 
from  the  flank,  with  the  aid  of  arguments. 
Arguments  are  here  out  of  place,  if  we  wish 
to  maintain  our  position  in  the  light.  Be- 
sides, where  would  they  lead  us?  To  evo- 
king the  instincts  of  bygone  ages,  which  have 
not  been  preserved  by  fossilization?  Any 
such  appeal  to  the  dim  and  distant  past  is 
quite  unnecessary,  if  we  wish  for  variations 
of  instinct,  leading  by  degrees,  according  to 
you,  from  one  instinct  to  another;  the  pre- 
sent world  offers  us  plenty. 

Each  operator  has  her  particular  method, 
her  particular  kind  of  game,  her  particular 
points  of  attack  and  tricks  of  fence;  but  in 
the  midst  of  this  variety  of  talents  we  ob- 
serve, immutable  and  predominant,  the  per- 
fect accordance  of  the  surgery  with  the  vic- 
tim's organization  and  the  larva's  needs. 
The  art  of  one  will  not  explain  the  art  of 
another,  no  less  exact  in  the  delicacy  of  its 
rules.  Each  operator  has  her  own  tactics, 
which  tolerate  no  apprenticeship.  The  Am- 
mophila,  the  Scolia,  the  Philanthus  and  the 
others  all  tell  us  the  same  thing:  none  can 
leave  descendants  if  she  be  not  from  the  out- 
set the  skilful  paralyser  or  slayer  that  she  is 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

today.  The  "  almost  "  is  impracticable  when 
the  future  of  the  race  is  at  stake.  What 
would  have  become  of  the  first-born  mammal 
but  for  its  perfect  instinct  of  suckling? 

And  then,  to  suppose  the  impossible:  a 
Wasp  discovers  by  chance  the  operative  me- 
thod which  will  be  the  saving  attribute  of 
her  race.  How  are  we  to  admit  that  this 
fortuitous  act,  to  which  the  mother  has 
vouchsafed  no  more  attention  than  to  her 
other  less  fortunate  attempts,  could  leave  a 
profound  trace  behind  it  and  be  faithfully 
transmitted  by  heredity?  Is  it  not  going 
beyond  reason,  going  beyond  the  little  that 
is  known  to  us  as  certain,  if  we  grant  to 
atavism  this  strange  power,  of  which  our 
present  world  knows  no  instance?  There 
is  a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  this  point  of 
view,  my  revered  master !  But,  once  more, 
arguments  are  here  out  of  place;  there  is 
room  only  for  facts,  of  which  I  will  resume 
the  recital. 

Hitherto  I  had  but  one  means  of  study- 
ing the  operative  methods  of  the  spoilers: 
to  surprise  the  Wasp  in  possession  of  her 
capture,  to  rob  her  of  her  prey  and  imme- 
diately to  give  her  in  exchange  a  similar 
prey,  but  a  living  one.  This  method  of  sub- 
stitution is  an  excellent  expedient.  Its  only 
289 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

defect  —  a  very  grave  one  —  is  that  it  sub- 
jects observation  to  very  uncertain  chances. 
There  is  little  prospect  of  meeting  the  insect 
dragging  its  victim  along;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  should  good  fortune  suddenly  smile 
upon  you,  preoccupied  as  you  are  with  other 
matters  you  have  not  the  substitute  at  hand. 
If  we  provide  ourselves  with  the  necessary 
head  of  game  in  advance,  the  huntress  is  not 
there.  We  avoid  one  reef  to  founder  on  an- 
other. Moreover,  these  unlooked-for  ob- 
servations, made  sometimes  on  the  public 
highway,  the  worst  of  laboratories,  are  only 
half-satisfactory.  In  the  case  of  swiftly- 
enacted  scenes,  which  it  is  not  in  our  power 
to  renew  again  and  again  until  perfect  con- 
viction is  reached,  we  always  fear  lest  we 
may  not  have  seen  accurately,  may  not  have 
seen  everything. 

A  method  which  could  be  controlled  at 
will  would  offer  the  best  guarantees,  above 
all  if  employed  at  home,  under  comfortable 
conditions,  favourable  to  precision.  I 
wished,  therefore,  to  see  my  insects  at  work 
on  the  actual  table  at  which  I  am  writing  their 
history.  Here  very  few  of  their  secrets 
would  escape  me.  This  wish  of  mine  was 
an  old  one.  As  a  beginner,  I  made  some 
experiments  under  glass  with  the  Great  Cer- 
290 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

ceris  (C.  tuberculata)  and  the  Yellow-winged 
Sphex.  Neither  of  them  responded  to  my 
desires.  The  refusal  of  each  to  attack  re- 
spectively her  Cleonus  or  her  Cricket  dis- 
couraged further  progress  in  this  direction. 
I  was  wrong  to  abandon  my  attempts  so 
soon.  Now,  very  long  afterwards,  the  idea 
occurs  to  me  to  place  under  glass  the  Bee-eat- 
ing Philanthus,  whom  I  sometimes  surprise  in 
the  open  engaged  in  forcing  a  bee  to  dis- 
gorge her  honey.  The  captive  massacres 
her  bees  in  such  a  spirited  fashion  that  the 
old  hope  revives  stronger  than  ever.  I  con- 
template reviewing,  all  the  wielders  of  the 
stiletto  and  forcing  each  to  reveal  her  tactics. 
I  was  obliged  to  abate  these  ambitions 
considerably.  I  had  some  successes  and 
many  more  failures.  I  will  tell  you  of  the 
former.  My  insect-cage  is  a  spacious  dome 
of  wire-gauze  resting  on  a  bed  of  sand. 
Here  I  keep  in  reserve  the  captives  of  my 
hunting-expeditions.  I  feed  them  on  honey, 
placed  in  little  drops  on  spikes  of  lavender, 
on  heads  of  thistle,  or  field  eryngo,  or  globe- 
thistle,  according  to  the  season.  Most  of 
my  prisoners  do  well  on  this  diet  and  seem 
scarcely  affected  by  their  internment;  others 
pine  away  and  die  in  two  or  three  days. 
These  victims  of  despair  nearly  always  throw 
291 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

me  back,  because  of  the  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing the  necessary  prey  at  short  notice. 

Indeed  it  entails  no  small  trouble  to  se- 
cure in  the  nick  of  time  the  game  demanded 
by  the  huntress  who  has  recently  fallen  a  cap- 
tive to  my  net.  As  assistant-purveyors  I 
have  a  few  small  schoolboys,  who,  released 
from  the  tedium  of  their  declensions  and  con- 
jugations, set  out,  on  leaving  the  classroom, 
to  inspect  the  greenswards  and  beat  the 
bushes  in  the  neighbourhood  on  my  behalf. 
The  gros  sou,  the  penny-piece,  if  you  please, 
stimulates  their  zeal;  but  with  misadventur- 
ous  results !  What  I  need  to-day  is  Crickets. 
The  band  sallies  forth  and  returns  with  not 
a  single  Cricket,  but  numbers  of  Ephippigers, 
for  which  I  asked  the  day  before  yesterday 
and  which  I  no  longer  need,  my  Languedo- 
cian  Sphex  being  dead.  General  surprise  at 
this  sudden  change  of  market.  My  young 
scatterbrains  find  it  hard  to  understand  that 
the  beast  which  was  so  precious  two  days 
ago  is  now  of  no  value  whatever.  When, 
owing  to  the  chances  of  my  net,  a  renewed 
demand  for  the  Ephippiger  sets  in,  then  they 
will  bring  me  the  Cricket,  the  despised 
Cricket. 

Such  a  trade  could  never  hold  out  if  now 
292 


The  Method    of  the  Ammophilae 

and  again  my  speculators  were  not  encour- 
aged by  some  success.  At  the  moment  when 
urgent  necessity  is  sending  up  prices,  one  of 
them  brings  me  a  magnificent  Gad-fly  in- 
tended for  the  Bembex.  For  two  hours, 
when  the  sun  was  at  its  height,  he  kept 
watch  on  the  threshing-floor  hard  by,  wait- 
ing for  the  blood-sucker,  in  order  to  catch 
him  on  the  buttocks  of  the  Mules  which  trot 
round  and  round  trampling  the  corn.  This 
gallant  fellow  shall  have  his  gros  sou  and  a 
slice  of  bread  and  jam  as  well.  A  second, 
no  less  fortunate,  has  found  a  fat  Spider,  the 
Epeira,  for  whom  my  Pompili  are  waiting. 
To  the  two  sous  of  this  fortunate  youth  I 
add  a  little  picture  for  his  missal.  Thus 
are  my  purveyors  kept  going;  and,  after  all, 
their  help  would  be  very  inadequate  if  I  did 
not  take  upon  myself  the  main  burden  of 
these  wearisome  quests. 

Once  in  possession  of  the  requisite  prey, 
I  transfer  the  huntress  from  rny  warehouse, 
the  wire-gauze  cage,  to  a  bell-glass  varying 
in  capacity  from  one  to  three  or  four  litres,1 
according  to  the  size  and  habits  of  the  com- 
batants; I  place  the  victim  in  the  arena;  I 
expose  the  bell-glass  to  the  direct  rays  of  the 

1 1^4  to  5  or  7  pints. —  Translator's  Note. 


293 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

sun,  without  which  condition  the  executioner 
as  a  rule  declines  to  operate;  I  arm  myself 
with  patience  and  await  events. 

We  will  begin  with  the  Hairy  Ammophila, 
my  neighbour.  "Year  after  year,  when  April 
comes,  I  see  her  in  considerable  numbers, 
very  busy  on  the  paths  in  my  enclosure.  Un- 
til June  I  see  her  digging  her  burrows  and 
searching  for  the  Grey  Worm,  to  be  placed 
in  the  meat-cellar.  Her  tactics  are  the  most 
complex  that  I  know  and  more  than  any 
other  deserves  to  be  thoroughly  studied.  To 
capture  the  cunning  vivisector,  to  release  her 
and  catch  her  again  I  find  an  easy  matter  for 
the  best  part  of  a  month;  she  works  outside 
my  door. 

I  have  still  to  obtain  the  Grey  Worm. 
This  means  a  repetition  of  the  disappoint- 
ments which  I  had  before,  when,  to  find  a 
caterpillar,  I  was  obliged  to  watch  the  Am- 
mophila while  hunting  and  to  be  guided  by 
her  hints,  as  the  truffle-hunter  is  guided  by 
the  scent  of  his  Dog.  A  patient  exploration 
of  the  harmas,  one  tuft  of  thyme  after  an- 
other, does  not  give  me  a  single  worm.  My 
rivals  in  this  search  are  finding  their  game 
at  every  moment;  I  cannot  find  it  even  once. 
Yet  one  more  reason  for  bowing  to  the  su- 
periority of  the  insect  in  the  management  of 
294 


The  Method    of  the  Ammophilae 

her  affairs.  My  band  of  schoolboys  get  to 
work  in  the  surrounding  fields.  Nothing,  al- 
ways nothing!  I  in  my  turn  explore  the 
outer  world;  and  for  ten  days  the  pursuit 
of  a  caterpillar  torments  me  till  I  lose  my 
power  of  sleep.  Then,  at  last,  victory!  At 
the  foot  of  a  sunny  wall,  under  the  budding 
rosettes  of  the  panicled  centaury,  I  find  a 
fair  supply  of  the  precious  Grey  Worm  or 
its  equivalent. 

Behold  the  worm  and  the  Ammophila  face 
to  face  beneath  the  bell-glass.  Usually  the 
attack  is  prompt  enough.  The  caterpillar 
is  grabbed  by  the  neck  with  the  mandibles, 
wide,  curved  pincers  capable  of  embracing 
the  greater  part  of  the  living  cylinder.  The 
creature  thus  seized  twists  and  turns  and 
sometimes,  with  a  blow  of  its  tail,  sends  the 
assailant  rolling  to  a  distance.  The  latter 
is  unconcerned  and  thrusts  her  sting  thrice 
in  rapid  succession  into  the  thorax,  begin- 
ning with  the  third  segment  and  ending  with 
the  first,  where  the  weapon  is  driven  home 
with  greater  determination  than  elsewhere. 

The  caterpillar  is  then  released.  The 
Ammophila  stamps  on  the  ground;  with  her 
quivering  tarsi  she  taps  the  cardboard  on 
which  the  bell-glass  stands;  she  lies  down  flat, 
drags  herself  along,  gets  up  again,  flattens 
295 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

herself  once  more.  The  wings  jerk  convul- 
sively. From  time  to  time  the  insect  places 
its  mandibles  and  forehead  on  the  ground, 
then  rears  high  upon  its  hind-legs  as  though 
to  turn  head  over  heels.  In  all  this  I  see  a 
manifestation  of  delight.  We  rub  our  hands 
when  rejoicing  at  a  success;  the  Ammophila 
is  celebrating  her  triumph  over  the  monster 
in  her  own  fashion.  During  this  fit  of  de- 
lirious joy,  what  is  the  wounded  caterpillar 
doing?  It  can  no  longer  walk;  but  all  the 
part  behind  the  thorax  struggles  violently, 
curling  and  uncurling  when  the  Ammophila 
sets  a  foot  upon  it.  The  mandibles  open 
and  shut  menacingly. 

Second  act.  —  When  the  operation  is  re- 
sumed, the  caterpillar  is  seized  by  the  back. 
From  front  to  rear,  in  order,  all  the  seg- 
ments are  stung  on  the  ventral  surface,  ex- 
cept the  three  operated  on.  All  serious  dan- 
ger is  averted  by  the  stabs  of  the  first  act; 
therefore,  the  Wasp  is  now  able  to  work  upon 
her  patient  without  the  haste  displayed  at  the 
outset.  Deliberately  and  methodically  she 
drives  in  her  lancet,  withdraws  it,  selects  the 
spot,  stabs  it  and  begins  again,  passing  from 
segment  to  segment,  taking  care,  each  time, 
to  lay  hold  of  the  back  a  little  more  to  the 
296 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

rear,  in  order  to  bring  the  segment  to  be 
paralysed  within  reach  of  the  needle.  For 
the  second  time,  the  caterpillar  is  released. 
It  is  absolutely  inert,  except  the  mandibles, 
which  are  still  capable  of  biting. 

Third  act. —  The  Ammophila  clasps  the 
paralysed  victim  between  her  legs;  with  the 
hooks  of  her  mandibles  she  seizes  the  back 
of  its  neck,  at  the  base  of  the  first  thoracic 
segment.  For  nearly  ten  minutes  she 
munches  this  weak  spot,  which  lies  close  to 
the  cerebral  nerve-centres.  The  pincers 
squeeze  suddenly  but  at  intervals  and  me- 
thodically, as  though  the  manipulator  wished 
each  time  to  judge  of  the  effect  produced; 
the  squeezes  are  repeated  until  I  am  tired 
of  trying  to  count  them.  When  they  cease, 
the  caterpillar's  mandibles  are  motionless. 
Then  comes  the  transportation  of  the  car- 
case, a  detail  which  is  not  relevant  in  this 
place. 

I  have  set  forth  the  complete  tragedy,  as 
it  is  fairly  often  enacted,  but  not  always. 
The  insect  is  not  a  machine,  unvarying  in  the 
effect  of  its  mechanism;  it  is  allowed  a  cert- 
ain latitude,  enabling  it  to  cope  with  the 
eventualities  of  the  moment.  Any  one  ex- 
pecting to  see  the  incidents  of  the  struggle 
297 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

unfolding  themselves  exactly  as  I  have  de- 
scribed will  risk  disappointment.  Special  in- 
stances occur  —  they  are  even  numerous  - 
which  are  more  or  less  at  variance  with  the 
general  rule.  It  will  be  well  to  mention  the 
more  important,  in  order  to  put  future  ob- 
servers on  their  guard. 

Not  infrequently  the  first  act,  that  of 
paralysing  the  thorax,  is  restricted  to  two 
thrusts  of  the  sting  instead  of  three,  or  even 
to  one,  which  is  then  delivered  in  the  fore- 
most segment.  This,  it  would  seem,  from 
the  persistency  with  which  the  Ammophila 
inflicts  it,  is  the  most  important  prick  of  all. 
Is  it  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  opera- 
tor, when  she  begins  by  pricking  the  thorax, 
intends  to  subdue  her  capture  and  to  make  it 
incapable  of  injuring  her,  or  even  of  dis- 
turbing her  when  the  moment  comes  for  the 
delicate  and  protracted  surgery  of  the  sec- 
ond act?  This  idea  seems  to  me  highly  ad- 
missible; and  then,  instead  of  three  dagger- 
thrusts,  why  not  two  only,  why  not  merely 
one,  if  this  would  suffice  for  the  time  being? 
The  amount  of  vigour  displayed  by  the  cater- 
pillar must  be  taken  into  consideration.  Be 
this  as  it  may,  the  segments  spared  in  the 
first  act  are  stabbed  in  the  second.  I  have 
sometimes  even  seen  the  three  thoracic  seg- 
298 


The  Method    of  the  Ammophilae 

ments  stung  twice  over:  at  the  beginning  of 
the  attack  and  again  when  the  Wasp  returned 
to  her  vanquished  prey. 

The  Ammophila's  triumphant  transports 
beside  her  wounded  and  writhing  victim  are 
also  subject  to  exceptions.  Sometimes,  with- 
out releasing  its  prey  for  a  moment,  the  in- 
sect proceeds  from  the  thorax  to  the  next 
segments  and  completes  its  operation  in  a 
single  spell.  The  joyous  entr'acte  does  not 
take  place;  the  convulsive  movements  of  the 
wings  and  the  acrobatic  postures  are  sup- 
pressed. 

The  rule  is  paralysis  of  all  the  segments, 
however  many,  in  regular  order  from  front  to 
back,  including  even  the  anal  segment  if  this 
boast  of  legs.  By  a  fairly  frequent  excep- 
tion the  last  two  or  three  segments  are 
spared.  Another  exception,  but  a  very  rare 
one,  of  which  I  have  observed  only  a  single 
instance,  consists  in  the  inversion  of  the  dag- 
ger-thrusts of  the  second  act,  the  thrusts  be- 
ing delivered  from  back  to  front.  The  ca- 
terpillar is  then  seized  by  its  hinder  extre- 
mity; and  the  Ammophila,  progressing  to- 
wards the  head,  stings  in  reverse  order,  pass- 
ing from  the  succeeding  to  the  preceding  seg- 
ment, including  the  thorax  already  stabbed. 
This  reversal  of  the  usual  tactics  I  am  in- 
299 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

clined  to  attribute  to  negligence  on  the  in- 
sect's part.  Negligence  or  not,  the  inverted 
method  has  the  same  final  result  as  the  di- 
rect method:  the  paralysis  of  all  the  seg- 
ments. 

Lastly,  the  compression  of  the  neck  by 
the  mandibulary  pincers,  the  munching  of  the 
weak  spot  between  the  base  of  the  skull  and 
the  first  segment  of  the  thorax,  is  sometimes 
practised  and  sometimes  neglected.  If  the 
caterpillar's  jaws  open  and  threaten,  the  Am- 
mophila  stills  them  by  biting  the  neck;  if 
they  are  already  growing  quiescent,  she  re- 
frains. Without  being  indispensable,  this 
operation  is  useful  at  the  moment  of  carting 
the  prey.  The  caterpillar,  too  heavy  to  be 
carried  on  the  wing,  is  dragged,  head  first, 
between  the  Ammophila's  legs.  If  the  man- 
dibles are  working,  the  least  clumsiness  may 
render  them  dangerous  to  the  carrier,  who 
is  exposed  to  their  bite  without  any  means 
of  defence. 

Moreover,  once  on  the  way,  thickets  of 
grass  are  traversed  in  which  the  Grey  Worm 
can  seize  a  blade  and  offer  a  desperate  re- 
sistance to  the  traction.  Nor  is  this  all. 
The  Ammophila  does  not  as  a  rule  trouble 
about  her  burrow,  or  at  least  does  not  com- 
plete it,  until  she  has  caught  her  caterpillar. 
300 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

During  the  mining-operations,  the  game  is 
laid  somewhere  high  up,  out  of  reach  of  the 
Ants,  on  some  tuft  of  grass,  or  the  twigs  of 
a  shrub,  whither  the  huntress,  from  time  to 
time,  stopping  her  well-sinking,  hastens  to 
see  if  her  quarry  is  still  there.  For  her  this 
is  a  means  of  refreshing  her  memory  of  the 
spot  where  she  has  laid  it,  often  at  some  dis- 
tance from  the  burrow,  and  of  preventing  at- 
tempts at  robbery.  When  the  moment 
comes  for  removing  the  game  from  its  hi- 
ding-place, the  difficulty  would  be  insurmount- 
able were  the  worm,  gripping  the  shrub  with 
all  the  might  of  its  jaws,  to  anchor  itself 
there.  Hence  inertia  of  the  powerful  hooks, 
which  are  the  paralysed  creature's  sole 
means  of  resistance,  becomes  essential  du- 
ring the  carting.  The  Ammophila  obtains  it 
by  compressing  the  cerebral  ganglia,  by 
munching  the  neck.  The  inertia  is  tem- 
porary; it  wears  off  sooner  or  later;  but  by 
this  time  the  carcase  is  in  the  cell  and  the 
egg,  prudently  laid  at  a  distance  on  the  ven- 
tral surface  of  the  worm,  has  nothing  to 
fear  from  the  caterpillar's  grapnels.  No 
comparison  is  permissible  between  the  me- 
thodical squeezes  of  the  Ammophila  be- 
numbing the  cephalic  nerve-centres  and  the 
brutal  manipulations  of  the  Philanthus  emp- 
301 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

tying  the  crop  of  her  Bee.  The  huntress  of 
Grey  Worms  induces  a  temporary  torpor  of 
the  mandibles;  the  ravisher  of  Bees  makes 
them  eject  their  honey.  No  one  gifted  with 
the  least  perspicacity  will  confound  the  two 
operations. 

For  the  moment  we  will  not  dwell  any 
longer  on  the  method  of  the  Hairy  Ammo- 
phila ;  we  will  see  instead  how  her  kinswomen 
behave.  After  protracted  refusals  the 
Sandy  Ammophila  (A.  sabulosa,  FAB.),  on 
whom  I  experimented  in  September,  ended 
by  accepting  the  proffered  prey,  a  powerful 
caterpillar  as  thick  as  a  lead-pencil.  The 
surgical  method  did  not  differ  from  that  em- 
ployed by  the  Hairy  Ammophila  when  opera- 
ting on  her  Grey  Worm  in  one  spell.  All 
the  segments,  excepting  the  last  three,  were 
stung  from  front  to  back,  beginning  with 
the  prothorax.  This  single  success  with  a 
simplified  method  left  me  in  ignorance  of  the 
accessory  manoeuvres,  which  I  do  not  doubt 
must  more  or  less  closely  recall  those  of  the 
preceding  species. 

I  am  all  the  more  inclined  to  accept  these 
secondary  manoeuvres,  not  as  yet  recorded  — 
the  transports  of  triumph  and  the  compress- 
ions of  the  neck  —  inasmuch  as  I  see  them 
practised  upon  the  Looper  caterpillars,  which 
302 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

differ  so  greatly  from  the  others  in  external 
structure,  exactly  as  I  have  described  them 
in  the  case  of  the  Grey  Worm,  which  is  of 
the  ordinary  form.  Two  species,  the  Silky 
Ammophila  (A.  holoserica,  FAB.)  and 
Jules'  Ammophila,1  affect  this  curious  prey, 
which  moves  with  the  stride  of  a  pair  of 
compasses.  The  first,  often  renewed  under 
glass  during  the  greater  part  of  August,  has 
always  refused  my  offers;  the  second,  her 
contemporary,  has,  on  the  contrary,  promptly 
accepted  them. 

I  present  Jules'  Ammophila  with  a  slen- 
der, brownish  Looper  which  I  caught  on  the 
jasmine.  The  attack  is  not  slow  in  coming. 
The  caterpillar  is  grabbed  by  the  neck: 
lively  contortions  of  the  victim,  which  rolls 
the  aggressor  over  and  drags  her  along, 
now  uppermost,  now  undermost  in  the  strug- 
gle. First  the  thorax  is  stung,  in  its  three 
rings,  from  back  to  front.  The  sting  lingers 
longest  near  the  throat,  in  the  first  segment. 
This  done,  the  Ammophila  releases  her  vic- 
tim and  proceeds  to  stamp  her  tarsi,  to  po- 

1  See  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Souvenirs  entomolo- 
giques  what  I  mean  by  this  denomination. —  Author's 
Note. 

The  author's  description  of  Ammophila  Julii,  H.  FAB., 
will  be  found,  in  the  English  translation  of  the  Souvenirs, 
in  The  Hunting  Wasps:  appendix  D. —  Translator's  Note. 
303 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

lish  her  wings,  to  stretch  herself.  Again  I 
observe  the  acrobatic  postures,  the  forehead 
touching  the  ground,  the  hinder  part  of  the 
body  raised.  This  mimic  triumph  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  huntress  of  the  Grey 
Worm.  Then  the  Looper  is  once  more 
seized.  Despite  its  contortions,  which  are 
not  in  the  least  abated  by  the  three  wounds 
in  the  thorax,  it  is  stung  from  front  to  back 
in  each  segment  still  unwounded,  no  matter 
how  many,  whether  supplied  with  legs  or 
not.  I  expected  to  see  the  sting  refrain 
more  or  less  in  the  long  interval  which  sep- 
arates the  true  legs  in  front  from  the  pro- 
legs  1  at  the  back:  segments  devoid  of  organs 
of  defence  or  locomotion  did  not  seem  to 
me  to  deserve  conscientious  surgery.  I  was 
mistaken :  not  a  segment  of  the  Looper  is 
spared,  not  even  the  last  ones.  It  is  true 
that  these,  being  eminently  capable  of  catch- 
ing hold  with  their  false  legs,  would  be  dan- 
gerous later  were  the  Wasp  to  neglect  them. 
I  observe,  however,  that  the  lancet  works 
more  rapidly  in  the  second  part  of  the  opera- 
tion than  in  the  first,  either  because  the 
caterpillar,  half  subjugated  by  the  triple 
wound  at  the  outset,  is  easier  to  reach  with 

1  Fleshy  legs  found  on  the  abdominal  segments  of  cater- 
pillars  and  certain   other   larva;. —  Translator's  Note. 
304 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

the  sting,  or  because  the  segments  more  re- 
mote from  the  head  are  rendered  harmless 
with  a  smaller  injection  of  poison.  No- 
where do  we  see  repeated  the  care  expended 
upon  paralysing  the  thorax,  still  less  the  in- 
sistent attention  to  the  first  segment.  On  re- 
turning to  her  Looper  after  the  entr'acte 
devoted  to  the  joys  of  success,  the  Ammo- 
phila  stabs  so  swiftly  that,  on  one  occasion, 
I  saw  her  obliged  to  begin  all  over  again. 
Lightly  stung  along  its  whole  length,  the  vic- 
tim still  struggles.  Without  hesitation,  the 
operator  unsheathes  her  scalpel  for  the  sec- 
ond time  and  operates  on  the  Looper  afresh, 
with  the  exception  of  the  thorax,  which 
was  already  sufficiently  anaesthetized.  This 
done,  all  is  in  order;  there  is  no  more  move- 
ment. 

After  the  stiletto  the  hooks  of  the  mandi- 
bles rarely  fail  to  intervene.  Long  and 
curved,  they  nibble  at  the  paralysed  victim's 
neck,  sometimes  from  above,  sometimes 
from  below.  It  is  a  repetition  of  what  the 
Hairy  Ammophila  showed  us :  the  same  sud- 
den squeezes  of  the  pincers,  with  rather  long 
intervals  between.  These  intervals,  these 
measured  bites  and  the  insect's  watchful  at- 
titude have  every  appearance  of  telling  us 
that  the  operator  is  noting  the  effect  pro- 
305 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

duced  before  giving  a  fresh  pinch  of  the 
nippers. 

It  will  be  seen  how  valuable  is  the  evi- 
dence of  Jules'  Ammophila :  it  tells  us  that 
the  immolators  of  Looper  caterpillars  and 
those  of  ordinary  caterpillars  follow  pre- 
cisely the  same  method;  that  victims  dis- 
playing very  dissimilar  external  structure  do 
not  entail  any  modification  of  the  operative 
tactics  so  long  as  the  internal  organization 
remains  the  same.  The  number,  arrange- 
ment and  degree  of  mutual  independence  of 
the  nerve-centres  guide  the  sting;  the  an- 
atomy of  the  game,  rather  than  its  form, 
controls  the  huntress'  tactics. 

Let  me  mention,  before  I  dismiss  the  sub- 
ject, a  superb  example  of  this  marvellous 
anatomical  discrimination.  I  once  took 
from  between  the  legs  of  a  Hairy  Ammo- 
phila, which  had  just  paralysed  it,  a  cater- 
pillar of  Dicranura  vinula.  What  a  strange 
capture  compared  with  the  ordinary  cater- 
pillar! Bridling  in  thick  folds  beneath  its 
pink  neckerchief,  its  fore-part  raised  in  a 
sphinx-like  attitude,  its  hinder-part  slowly 
waving  two  long  caudal  threads,  the  curious 
animal  is  no  caterpillar  to  the  schoolboy  who 
brings  it  to  me,  nor  to  the  man  who  comes 
upon  it  while  cutting  his  bundle  of  osiers; 
306 


The  Method  of  the  Ammophilae 

but  it  is  a  caterpillar  to  the  Ammophila,  who 
treats  it  accordingly.  I  explore  the  queer 
creature's  segments  with  the  point  of  a 
needle.  All  are  insensitive;  all  therefore 
have  been  stung. 


307 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    METHOD   OF   THE    SCOLI^E 

A  FTER  the  Ammophilae,  the  paralysers 
•**•  who  multiply  their  lancet-thrusts  to  de- 
stroy the  influence  of  the  various  nerve-cen- 
tres, excepting  those  of  the  head,  it  seemed 
advisable  to  interrogate  other  insects  which 
also  are  accustomed  to  a  naked  prey,  vulner- 
able at  all  points  save  the  head,  but  which 
deliver  only  a  single  thrust  of  the  sting.  Of 
these  two  conditions  the  Scoliae  fulfilled  one, 
with  their  regular  quarry,  the  tender  Ce- 
tonia-,  Oryctes-  or  Anoxia-larva,  according 
to  the  Scolia's  species.  Did  they  fulfil  the 
second?  I  was  convinced  beforehand  that 
they  did.  From  the  anatomy  of  the  victims, 
with  their  concentrated  nervous  system,  I 
foresaw,  when  compiling  my  history  of  the 
Scoliae,  that  the  sting  would  be  unsheathed 
once  only;  I  even  mentioned  the  exact  spot 
into  which  the  weapon  would  be  plunged. 

These  were  assertions  dictated  by  the  an- 
atomist's scalpel,  without  the  slightest  direct 
proof  derived   from  observed  facts.     Ma- 
308 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

noeuvres  executed  underground  escaped  the 
eye,  as  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  must  al- 
ways do.  How  indeed  could  I  hope  that  a 
creature  whose  art  is  practised  in  the  dark- 
ness of  a  heap  of  mould  would  decide  to 
work  in  broad  daylight?  I  did  not  reckon 
upon  it  all.  Nevertheless,  to  salve  my  con- 
science, I  tried  bringing  the  Scolia  into  con- 
tact with  her  prey  under  the  bell-glass.  I 
was  well-advised  to  do  so,  for  my  success 
was  in  inverse  ratio  to  my  hopes.  Next  to 
the  Philanthus,  none  of  the  Hunting  Wasps 
displayed  such  ardour  in  attacking  under  art- 
ificial conditions.  All  the  insects  experi- 
mented upon,  some  sooner,  some  later,  re- 
warded me  for  my  patience.  Let  us  watch 
the  Two^banded  Scolia  (S.  bifasciata,  VAN 
DER  LIND)  operating  on  her  Cetonia  grub. 
The  incarcerated  larva  strives  to  escape 
its  terrible  neighbour.  Lying  on  its  back,  it 
fiercely  wends  its  way  round  and  round  the 
glass  circus.  Presently  the  Scolia's  attention 
awakens  and  is  betrayed  by  a  continued  tap- 
ping with  the  tips  of  the  antennas  upon  the 
table,  which  now  represents  the  accustomed 
soil.  The  Wasp  attacks  the  game,  deliver- 
ing her  assault  upon  the  monster's  hinder 
end.  She  climbs  upon  the  Cetonia-grub,  ob- 
taining a  purchase  with  the  tip  of  her  abdo- 
309 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

men.  The  quarry  merely  travels  the  more 
quickly  on  its  back,  without  coiling  itself  into 
a  defensive  posture.  The  Scolia  reaches  the 
fore-part,  with  tumbles  and  other  accidents 
which  vary  greatly  with  the  amount  of  toler- 
ance displayed  by  the  larva,  her  improvised 
steed.  With  her  mandibles  she  nips  a  point 
of  the  thorax,  on  the  upper  surface;  she 
places  herself  athwart  the  beast,  arches  her- 
self and  makes  every  effort  to  reach  with 
the  end  of  her  abdomen  the  region  into  which 
the  sting  is  to  be  driven.  The  arch  is  a 
little  too  narrow  to  embrace  almost  the 
whole  circumference  of  her  corpulent  prey; 
and  she  renews  her  attempts  and  efforts  for 
a  long  time.  The  tip  of  the  belly  tries  every 
conceivable  expedient,  touching  here,  there 
and  everywhere,  but  as  yet  stopping  no- 
where. This  persistent  search  in  itself 
demonstrates  the  importance  which  the  para- 
lyser  attaches  to  the  point  at  which  her  lan- 
cet is  to  penetrate  the  flesh. 

Meanwhile,  the  larva  continues  to  move 
along  on  its  back.  Suddenly  it  curls  up; 
with  a  stroke  of  its  head  it  hurls  the  enemy 
to  a  distance.  Undiscouraged  by  all  her 
set-backs,  the  Wasp  picks  herself  up,  brushes 
her  wings  and  resumes  her  attack  upon  the 
colossus,  almost  always  by  mounting  the 
310 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

larva's  hinder  end.  At  last  after  all  these 
fruitless  attempts,  the  Scolia  succeeds  in 
achieving  the  correct  position.  She  is  seated 
athwart  the  Cetonia-grub ;  the  mandibles 
grip  a  point  on  the  dorsal  surface  of  the 
thorax;  the  body,  bent  into  a  bow,  passes 
under  the  larva  and  with  the  tip  of  the  belly 
reaches  the  region  of  the  neck.  The  Ce- 
tonia-grub, placed  in  serious  peril,  writhes, 
coils  and  uncoils  itself,  spinning  round  upon 
its  axis.  The  Scolia  does  not  interfere. 
Holding  the  victim  tightly  gripped,  she  turns 
with  it,  allows  herself  to  be  dragged  up- 
wards, downwards,  sidewards,  following  its 
contortions.  Her  obstinacy  is  such  that  I 
can  now  remove  the  bell-glass  and  follow  the 
details  of  the  drama  in  the  open. 

Briefly,  in  spite  of  the  turmoil,  the  tip  of 
the  abdomen  feels  that  the  right  spot  has 
been  found.  Then  and  only  then  the  sting 
is  unsheathed.  It  plunges  in.  The  thing  is 
done.  The  larva,  at  first  plump  and  active, 
suddenly  becomes  flaccid  and  inert.  It  is 
paralysed.  Henceforth  there  are  no  move- 
ments save  of  the  antennae  and  the  mouth- 
parts,  which  will  for  a  long  time  yet  bear 
witness  to  a  remnant  of  life.  The  point 
wounded  has  never  varied  in  the  series  of 
combats  under  glass:  it  occupies  the  middle 
311 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

of  the  line  of  demarcation  between  the  pro- 
thorax  and  the  mesothorax,  on  the  ventral 
surface.  Note  that  the  Cerceres,  operating 
on  Weevils,  whose  nervous  system  is  as  com- 
pact as  the  Cetonia-grub's,  drive  in  the  nee- 
dle at  the  same  spot.  Similarity  of  nervous 
organization  occasions  similarity  of  method. 
Note  also  that  the  Scolia's  sting  remains  in 
the  wound  for  some  time  and  roots  about 
with  marked  persistence.  Judging  by  the 
movements  of  the  tip  of  the  abdomen,  one 
would  certainly  say  that  the  weapon  is  ex- 
ploring and  selecting.  Free  to  shift  in  one 
direction  or  the  other,  within  narrow  limits, 
its  point  is  most  probably  seeking  for  the 
little  mass  of  nerve-tissue  which  must  be 
pricked,  or  at  least  sprinkled  with  poison, 
to  obtain  overwhelming  paralysis. 

I  will  not  close  this  report  of  the  duel 
without  relating  a  few  further  facts,  of 
minor  importance.  The  Two-banded  Scolia 
is  a  fierce  persecutor  of  the  Cetonia.  In  one 
sitting  the  same  mother  stabs  three  larvae, 
one  after  the  other,  in  front  of  my  eyes. 
She  refuses  the  fourth,  perhaps  owing  to 
fatigue  or  to  exhaustion  of  the  poison-bag. 
Her  refusal  is  only  temporary.  Next  day, 
she  begins  again  and  paralyses  two  grubs; 
the  day  after  that,  she  does  the  same,  but 
312 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

with  a  zeal  that  decreases  from  day  to  day. 

The  other  Hunting  Wasps  that  pursue 
the  chase  far  afield  grip,  drag,  carry  their 
prey,  after  depriving  it  of  movement,  each 
in  her  own  fashion  and,  laden  with  their  bur- 
den, make  prolonged  attempts  to  escape 
from  the  bell-glass  and  to  gain  the  burrow. 
Discouraged  by  these  futile  endeavours,  they 
abandon  them  at  last.  The  Scolia  does  not 
remove  her  quarry,  which  lies  on  its  back 
for  an  indefinite  time  on  the  actual  spot  of 
the  sacrifice.  When  she  has  withdrawn  her 
dagger  from  the  wound,  she  leaves  her  vic- 
tim where  it  lies  and,  without  taking  further 
notice  of  it,  begins  to  flutter  against  the  side 
of  the  glass.  The  paralysed  carcase  is  not 
transported  elsewhere,  into  a  special  cellar; 
there  where  the  struggle  has  occurred  it  re- 
ceives, upon  its  extended  abdomen,  the  egg 
whence  the  consumer  of  the  succulent  tit-bit 
will  emerge,  thus  saving  the  expense  of  set- 
ting up  house.  It  goes  without  saying  that 
under  the  bell-glass  the  laying  does  not  take 
place :  the  mother  is  too  cautious  to  abandon 
her  egg  to  the  perils  of  the  open  air. 

Why  then,  recognizing  the  absence  of  her 
underground  burrow,  does  the  Scolia  use- 
lessly pursue  the  Cetonia  with  the  frantic 
ardour  of  the  Philanthus  flinging  herself 
313 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

upon  the  Bee?  The  action  of  the  Philan- 
thus  is  explained  by  her  passion  for  honey; 
hence  the  murders  committed  in  excess  of 
the  needs  of  her  family.  The  Scolia  leaves 
us  perplexed:  she  takes  nothing  from  the 
Cetonia-grub,  which  is  left  without  an  egg; 
she  stabs,  though  well  aware  of  the  useless- 
ness  of  her  action:  the  heap  of  mould  is 
lacking  and  it  is  not  her  custom  to  transport 
her  prey.  The  other  prisoners,  once  the 
blow  is  struck,  at  least  seek  to  escape  with 
their  capture  between  their  legs;  the  Scolia 
attempts  nothing. 

After  due  reflection,  I  lump  together  in 
my  suspicions  all  these  surgeons  and  ask 
myself  whether  they  possess  the  slightest 
foresight,  where  the  egg  is  concerned. 
When,  exhausted  by  their  burden,  they 
recognize  the  impossibility  of  escape,  the 
more  expert  among  them  ought  not  to  begin 
all  over  again;  yet  they  do  so  begin  a  few 
minutes  later.  These  wonderful  anatomists 
know  absolutely  nothing  about  anything,  they 
do  not  even  know  what  their  victims  are 
good  for.  Admirable  artists  in  killing  and 
paralysis,  they  kill  or  paralyse  at  every  fa- 
vourable opportunity,  no  matter  what  the 
final  result  as  regards  the  egg.  Their 
talent,  which  leaves  our  science  speechless, 
314 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

has  not  a  shadow  of  consciousness  of  the 
task  accomplished. 

A  second  detail  strikes  me :  the  desperate 
persistence  of  the  Scolia.  I  have  seen  the 
struggle  continue  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour,  with  frequent  alternations  of 
good  luck  and  bad,  before  the  Wasp  achieved 
the  required  position  and  reached  with  the 
end  of  her  abdomen  the  spot  where  the  sting 
should  penetrate.  During  these  assaults, 
which  were  resumed  as  soon  as  they  were 
repulsed,  the  aggressor  repeatedly  applied 
the  tip  of  her  belly  to  the  larva,  but  without 
unsheathing,  as  I  could  see  by  the  absence 
of  the  start  which  the  larva  gives  when  it 
feels  the  pain  of  the  sting.  The  Scolia 
therefore  does  not  prick  the  Cetonia  any- 
where until  the  weapon  covers  the  requisite 
spot.  If  no  wounds  are  inflicted  elsewhere, 
this  is  not  in  any  way  due  to  the  structure 
of  the  larva,  which  is  soft  and  vulnerable 
all  over,  except  in  the  head.  The  point 
sought  by  the  sting  is  no  more  unprotected 
than  any  other  part  of  the  skin. 

In  the  scuffle,  the  Scolia,  curved  into  a  bow, 
is  sometimes  seized  by  the  vice-like  grip  of 
the  Cetonia-grub,  which  is  violently  coiling 
and  uncoiling.  Heedless  of  the  powerful 
grip,  the  Wasp  does  not  let  go  for  a  moment, 
315 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

either  with  her  mandibles  or  with  the  tip  of 
her  abdomen.  At  such  times  the  two  crea- 
tures, locked  in  a  mutual  embrace,  turn  over 
and  over  in  a  mad  whirl,  each  of  them  now 
on  top,  now  underneath.  When  it  contrives 
to  rid  itself  of  its  enemy,  the  larva  uncoils 
again,  stretches  itself  out  and  proceeds  to 
make  off  upon  its  back  with  all  possible 
speed.  Its  defensive  ruses  are  exhausted. 
Formerly,  before  I  had  seen  things  for  my- 
self, taking  probability  as  my  guide  I  will- 
ingly granted  to  the  larva  the  trick  of  the 
Hedgehog,  who  rolls  himself  into  a  ball  and 
sets  the  Dog  at  defiance.  Coiled  upon  it- 
self, with  an  energy  which  my  fingers  have 
some  difficulty  in  overcoming,  the  larva,  I 
thought,  would  defy  the  Scolia,  powerless 
to  unroll  it  and  disdaining  any  point  but  the 
one  selected.  I  hoped  and  believed  that  it 
possessed  this  means  of  defence,  a  means 
both  efficacious  and  extremely  simple.  I  had 
presumed  too  much  upon  its  ingenuity.  In- 
stead of  imitating  the  Hedgehog  and  remain- 
ing contracted,  it  flees,  belly  in  air;  it  fool- 
ishly adopts  the  very  posture  which  allows 
the  Scolia  to  mount  to  the  assault  and  to 
reach  the  spot  for  the  fatal  stroke.  The 
silly  beast  reminds  me  of  the  giddy  Bee  who 
comes  and  flings  herself  into  the  clutches  of 
316 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

the  Philanthus.     Yet  another  who  has  learnt 
no  lesson  from  the  struggle  for  life. 

Let  us  proceed  to  further  examples.  I 
have  just  captured  an  Interrupted  Scolia 
(Colpa  interrupta,  LATR.),  exploring  the 
sand,  doubtless  in  search  of  game.  It  is  a 
matter  of  making  the  earliest  possible  use 
of  her,  before  her  spirit  is  chilled  by  the 
tedium  of  captivity.  I  know  her  prey,  the 
larva  of  Anoxia  australis;  1  I  know,  from 
my  past  excavations,  the  points  favoured  by 
the  grub  :  the  mounds  of  sand  heaped  up  by 
the  wind  at  the  foot  of  the  rosemaries  on  the 
neighbouring  hill-sides.  It  will  be  a  hard 
job  to  find  it,  for  nothing  is  rarer  than  the 
common  if  one  wants  it  then  and  there.  I 
appeal  for  assistance  to  my  father,  an  old 
man  of  ninety,  still  straight  as  a  capital  I. 
Under  a  sun  hot  enough  to  broil  an  egg,  we 
set  off,  shouldering  a  navvy's  shovel  and  a 
three-pronged  luchet.2  Employing  our  fee- 
ble energies  in  turns,  we  dig  a  trench  in  the 
sand  where  I  hope  to  find  the  Anoxia.  My 
hopes  are  not  disappointed.  After  having 
by  the  sweat  of  our  brow  —  never  was  the 
expression  more  justified  —  removed  and 


Anoxiae  are  a  genus  of  Beetles  akin  to  the  Cock- 
chafers. —  Translator's  Note. 

2  The  local  pitchfork  of  southern  France.  —  Translator's 
Note. 

317 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

sifted  two  cubic  yards  at  least  of  sandy  soil 
with  our  fingers,  we  find  ourselves  in  pos- 
session of  two  larvae.  If  I  had  not  wanted 
any,  I  should  have  turned  them  up  by  the 
handful.  But  my  poor  and  costly  harvest 
is  sufficient  for  the  moment.  To-morrow  I 
will  send  more  vigorous-  arms  to  continue 
the  work  of  excavation. 

And  now  let  us  reward  ourselves  for  our 
trouble  by  studying  the  tragedy  in  the  bell- 
glass.  Clumsy,  awkward  in  her  movements, 
the  Scolia  slowly  goes  the  round  of  the  cir- 
cus. At  the  sight  of  the  game,  her  atten- 
tion is  aroused.  The  struggle  is  announced 
by  the  same  preparations  as  those  displayed 
by  the  Two-banded  Scolia :  the  Wasp  po- 
lishes her  wings  and  taps  the  table  with  the 
tips  of  her  antennae.  And  view,  halloo! 
The  attack  begins.  Unable  to  move  on  a 
flat  surface,  because  of  its  short  and  feeble 
legs,  deprived  moreover  of  the  Cetonia- 
larva's  eccentric  means  of  travelling  on  its 
back,  the  portly  grub  has  no  thought  of  flee- 
ing; it  coils  itself  up.  The  Scolia,  with  her 
powerful  pincers,  grips  its  skin  now  here, 
now  elsewhere.  Curved  into  a  circle  with 
the  two  ends  almost  touching,  she  strives  to 
thrust  the  tip  of  her  abdomen  into  the  nar- 
row opening  in  the  coil  formed  by  the  larva. 
318 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

The  contest  is  conducted  calmly,  without  vio- 
lent bouts  at  each  varying  accident.  It  is 
the  determined  attempt  of  a  living  split  ring 
trying  to  slip  one  of  its  ends  into  another 
living  split  ring,  which  with  equal  determina- 
tion refuses  to  open.  The  Scolia  holds  the 
victim  subdued  with  her  legs  and  mandibles; 
she  tries  one  side,  then  the  other,  without 
managing  to  unroll  the  circle,  which  con- 
tracts still  more  as  it  feels  its  danger  in- 
creasing. The  actual  circumstances  make 
the  operation  more  difficult:  the  prey  slips 
and  rolls  about  the  table  when  the  insect 
handles  it  too  violently;  there  are  no  points 
of  purchase  and  the  sting  cannot  reach  the 
desired  spot;  the  fruitless  efforts  are  con- 
tinued for  more  than  an  hour,  interrupted 
by  periods  of  rest,  during  which  the  two  ad- 
versaries represent  two  narrow,  interlocked 
rings. 

What  ought  the  powerful  Cetonia-grub  to 
do  to  defy  the  Two-banded  Scolia,  who  is 
far  less  vigorous  than  her  victim?  It 
should  imitate  the  Anoxia-larva  and  remain 
rolled  up  like  a  Hedgehog  until  the  enemy 
retires.  It  tries  to  escape,  unrolls  itself  and 
is  lost.  The  other  does  not  stir  from  its 
posture  of  defence  and  resists  successfully. 
Is  this  due  to  acquired  caution?  No,  but  to 
319 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  impossibility  of  doing  otherwise  on  the 
slippery  surface  of  a  table.  Clumsy,  obese, 
weak  in  the  legs,  curved  into  a  hook  like  the 
common  White  Worm,1  the  Anoxia-larva  is 
unable  to.  move  along  a  smooth  surface;  it 
writhes  laboriously,  lying  on  its  side.  It 
needs  the  shifting  soil  in  which,  using  its 
mandibles  as  a  plough-share,  it  digs  into  the 
ground  and  buries  itself. 

Let  us  try  if  sand  will  shorten  the  strug- 
gle, for  I  see  no  end  to  it  yet,  after  more 
than  an  hour  of  waiting.  I  lightly  powder 
the  arena.  The  attack  is  resumed  with  a 
vengeance.  The  larva,  feeling  the  sand,  its 
native  element,  tries  to  escape.  Imprudent 
creature!  Did  I  not  say  that  its  obstinacy 
in  remaining  rolled  up  was  due  to  no  ac- 
quired prudence  but  to  the  necessity  of  the 
moment?  The  sad  experience  of  past  ad- 
versities has  not  yet  taught  it  the  precious 
advantage  which  it  might  derive  from  keep- 
ing its  coils  closed  so  long  as  danger  remains. 
For  that  matter,  on  the  unyielding  support 
of  my  table,  they  are  not  one  and  all  so 
cautious.  The  larger  seem  even  to  have 
forgotten  what  they  knew  so  well  in  their 
youth:  the  defensive  art  of  coiling  them- 
selves up. 

1The   larva   of   the   Cockchafer.—  Translator's  Note. 
320 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

I  continue  my  story  with  a  fine-sized  speci- 
men, less  likely  to  slip  under  the  Scolia's 
onslaught.  When  attacked,  the  larva  does 
not  curl  up,  does  not  shrink  into  a  ring  as 
did  the  last,  which  was  younger  and  only 
half  as  large.  It  struggles  awkwardly,  ly- 
ing on  its  side,  half-open.  For  all  defence 
it  twists  about;  it  opens,  closes  and  reopens 
the  great  hooks  of  its  mandibles.  The  Sco- 
lia grabs  it  at  random,  clasps  it  in  her 
shaggy  legs  and  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  battles  with  the  luscious  tit-bit.  At 
last,  after  a  not  very  tumultuous  struggle, 
when  the  favourable  position  is  attained  and 
the  propitious  moment  has  come,  the  sting  is 
implanted  in  the  creature's  thorax,  in  a  cen- 
tral point,  below  the  throat,  level  with  the 
fore-legs.  The  effect  is  instantaneous :  total 
inertia,  except  of  the  appendages  of  the 
head,  the  antennae  and  mouth-parts.  I 
achieved  the  same  results,  the  same  prick  at 
a  definite,  invariable  point,  with  my  several 
operators,  renewed  from  time  to  time  by 
some  lucky  cast  of  the  net. 

Let  us  mention,  in  conclusion,  that  the  at- 
tack of  the  Interrupted  Scolia  is  far  less 
fierce  than  that  of  the  Two-banded  Scolia. 
The  Wasp,  a  rough  sand-digger,  has  a 
clumsy  gait;  her  movements  are  stiff  and 
321 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

almost  automatic.  She  does  not  find  it 
easy  to  repeat  her  dagger-thrust.  Most  of 
the  specimens  with  which  I  experimented  re- 
fused a  second  victim  on  the  first  two  days 
after  their  exploits.  As  though  somnolent, 
they  did  not  stir  unless  excited  by  my  teasing 
them  with  a  bit  of  straw.  Although  more 
active  and  more  ardent  in  the  chase,  the 
Two-banded  Scolia  likewise  does  not  draw 
her  weapon  every  time  that  I  invite  her. 
For  all  these  huntresses  there  are  moments 
of  inaction  which  the  presence  of  a  fresh 
prey  is  powerless  to  disturb. 

The  Scoliae  have  taught  me  nothing  fur- 
ther, in  the  absence  of  subjects  belonging  to 
other  species.  No  matter:  the  results  ob- 
tained represent  no  small  triumph  for  my 
ideas.  Before  seeing  the  Scoliae  operate,  I 
said,  guided  solely  by  the  anatomy  of  the 
victims,  that  the  Cetonia-,  Anoxia-  and  Oryc- 
tes-larvae  must  be  paralysed  by  a  single 
thrust  of  the  lancet;  I  even  named  the  point 
where  the  sting  must  strike,  a  central  point, 
in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  fore-legs. 
Of  the  three  genera  of  paralysers,  two  have 
allowed  me  to  witness  their  surgical  methods, 
which  the  third,  I  feel  certain,  will  confirm. 
In  both  cases,  a  single  thrust  of  the  lancet; 
in  both  cases,  injection  of  the  venom  at  a 
322 


The  Method  of  the  Scoliae 

predetermined  point.  A  calculator  in  an  ob- 
servatory could  not  compute  the  position  of 
his  planet  with  greater  accuracy.  An  idea 
may  be  taken  as  proved  when  it  attains  to 
this  mathematical  forecast  of  the  future,  this 
certain  knowledge  of  the  unknown.  When 
will  the  acclaimers  of  chance  achieve  a  like 
success?  Order  appeals  to  order;  and 
chance  knows  no  laws. 


3*3 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   METHOD   OF   THE    CALICURGI 


non-armoured  victims,  vulnerable 
by  the  sting  over  almost  their  whole 
body,  ordinary  caterpillars  and  Looper 
caterpillars,  Cetonia-  and  Anoxia-larvae, 
whose  only  means  of  defence,  apart  from 
their  mandibles,  consists  of  rollings  and  con- 
tortions, called  for  the  testimony  of  an- 
other victim,  the  Spider,  almost  as  ill-pro- 
tected, but  armed  with  formidable  poison- 
fangs.  How,  in  particular,  will  the  Ringed 
Calicurgus  set  to  work  in  operating  on  the 
Black-bellied  Tarantula,  the  terrible  Lycosa, 
who  with  a  single  bite  kills  the  Mole  or  the 
Sparrow  and  endangers  the  life  of  man? 
How  does  the  bold  Pompilus  overcome  an 
adversary  more  powerful  than  herself,  bet- 
ter-equipped with  virulent  poison  and  capa- 
ble of  making  a  meal  of  her  assailant?  Of 
all  the  Hunting  Wasps,  none  risks  such  un- 
equal conflicts,  in  which  appearances  would 
proclaim  the  aggressor  to  be  the  victim  and 
the  victim  the  aggressor. 
324 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

The  problem  was  one  deserving  patient 
study.  True,  I  foresaw,  from  the  Spider's 
organization,  a  single  sting  in  the  centre  of 
the  thorax;  but  that  did  not  explain  the 
victory  of  the  Wasp,  emerging  safe  and 
sound  from  her  tussle  with  such  a  quarry. 
I  had  to  see  what  occurred.  The  chief  dif- 
ficulty was  the  scarcity  of  the  Calicurgus. 
It  is  easy  for  me  to  obtain  the  Tarantula 
at  the  desired  moment:  the  part  of  the 
plateau  in  my  neighbourhood  left  untilled  by 
the  vine-growers  provides  me  with  as  many 
as  are  necessary.  To  capture  the  Pompilus 
is  another  matter.  I  have  so  little  hope  of 
finding  her  that  special  quests  are  regarded 
as  useless.  To  search  for  her  would  per- 
haps be  just  the  way  not  to  find  her.  Let 
us  rely  on  the  uncertainties  of  chance. 
Shall  I  get  her  or  shall  I  not? 

I've  got  her.  I  catch  her  unexpectedly  on 
the  flowers.  Next  day  I  supply  myself  with 
half  a  dozen  Tarantulae.  Perhaps  I  shall 
be  able  to  employ  them  one  after  the  other 
in  repeated  duels.  As  I  return  from  my 
Lycosa-hunt,  luck  smiles  upon  me  again  and 
crowns  my  desires.  A  second  Calicurgus 
offers  herself  to  my  net;  she  is  dragging  her 
heavy,  paralysed  Spider  by  one  leg,  in  the 
dust  of  the  highway.  I  attach  great  value 
325 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

to  my  find:  the  laying  of  the  egg  has  become 
a  pressing  matter;  and  the  mother,  I  believe, 
will  accept  a  substitute  for  her  victim  with- 
out much  hesitation.  Here  then  are  my  two 
captives,  each  under  her  bell-glass  with  her 
Tarantula. 

I  am  all  eyes.  What  a  tragedy  there  will 
be  in  a  moment!  I  wait,  anxiously.  .  .  . 
But  .  .  .  but  .  .  .  what  is  this?  Which 
of  the  two  is  the  assailed?  Which  is  the 
assailant?  The  characters  seem  to  be  in- 
verted. The  Calicurgus,  unable  to  climb  up 
the  smooth  glass  wall,  strides  round  the  ring 
of  the  'circus.  With  a  proud  and  rapid 
gait,  her  wings  and  antennae  vibrating,  she 
goes  and  returns.  The  Lycosa  is  soon  seen. 
The  Calicurgus  approaches  her  without  the 
least  sign  of  fear,  walks  round  her  and  ap- 
pears to  have  the  intention  of  seizing  one  of 
her  legs.  But  at  that  moment  the  Taran- 
tula rises  almost  vertically  on  her  four  hin- 
der legs,  with  her  four  front  legs  lifted  and 
outspread,  ready  for  the  counterstroke. 
The  poison- fangs  gape  widely;  a  drop  of 
venom  moistens  their  tips.  The  very  sight 
of  them  makes  my  flesh  creep.  In  this  ter- 
rible attitude,  presenting  her  powerful 
thorax  and  the  black  velvet  of  her  belly  to 
the  enemy,  the  Spider  overawes  the  Pom- 
326 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

pilus,  who  suddenly  turns  tail  and  moves 
away.  The  Lycosa  then  closes  her  bundle 
of  poisoned  daggers  and  resumes  her  na- 
tural pose,  standing  on  her  eight  legs;  but,  at 
the  slightest  attempt  at  aggression  on  the 
Wasp's  part,  she  resumes  her  threatening 
position. 

She  does  more:  suddenly  she  leaps  and 
flings  herself  upon  the  Calicurgus;  swiftly 
she  clasps  her  and  nibbles  at  her  with  her 
fangs.  Without  wielding  her  sting  in  self- 
defence,  the  other  disengages  herself  and 
merges  unscathed  from  the  angry  encounter. 
Several  times  in  succession  I  witness  the  at- 
tack; and  nothing  serious  ever  befalls  the 
Wasp,  who  swiftly  withdraws  from  the  fray 
and  appears  to  have  received  no  hurt.  She 
resumes  her  marching  and  countermarching 
no  less  boldly  and  swiftly  than  before. 

Is  this  Wasp  invulnerable,  that  she  thus 
escapes  from  the  terrible  fangs?  Evidently 
not.  A  real  bite  would  be  fatal  to  her. 
Big,  sturdily-built  Acridians  l  succumb;  how 
is  it  that  she,  with  her  delicate  organism, 
does  not!  The  Spider's  daggers,  therefore, 
make  no  more  than  an  idle  feint;  their  points 
do  not  enter  the  flesh  of  the  tight-clasped 
Wasp.  If  the  strokes  were  real,  I  should 

1  Locusts  and   Grasshoppers. —  Translator's  Note. 
327 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

see  bleeding  wounds,  I  should  see  the  fangs 
close  for  a  moment  on  the  part  seized;  and 
with  all  my  attention  I  cannot  detect  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  Then  are  the  fangs 
powerless  to  pierce  the  Wasp's  integuments? 
Not  so.  I  have  seen  them  penetrate,  with 
a  crackling  of  broken  armour,  the  corselet 
of  the  Acridians,  which  offers  a  far  greater 
resistance.  Once  again,  whence  comes  this 
strange  immunity  of  the  Calicurgus  held  be- 
tween the  legs  and  assailed  by  the  daggers 
of  the  Tarantula?  I  do  not  know. 
Though  in  mortal  peril  from  the  enemy  con- 
fronting her,  the  Lycosa  threatens  her  with 
her  fangs  and  cannot  decide  to  bite,  owing 
to  a  repugnance  which  I  do  not  undertake 
to  explain. 

Obtaining  nothing  more  than  alarums  and 
excursions  of  no  great  seriousness,  I  think 
of  modifying  the  gladiatorial  arena  and  ap- 
proximating it  to  natural  conditions.  The 
soil  is  very  imperfectly  represented  by  my 
work-table;  and  the  Spider  has  not  her 
fortress,  her  burrow,  which  plays  a  part  of 
some  importance  both  in  attack  and  in  de- 
fence. A  short  length  of  reed  is  planted 
perpendicularly  in  a  large  earthenware  pan 
filled  with  sand.  This  will  be  the  Lycosa's 
burrow.  In  the  middle  I  stick  some  heads 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

of  globe-thistle  garnished  with  honey  as  a 
refectory  for  the  Pompilus;  a  couple  of  Lo- 
custs, renewed  as  and  when  consumed,  will 
sustain  the  Tarantula.  These  comfortable 
quarters,  exposed  to  the  sun,  receive  the  two 
captives  under  a  wire-gauze  dome,  which 
provides  adequate  ventilation  for  a  pro- 
longed residence. 

My  artifices  come  to  nothing;  the  session 
closes  without  result.  A  day  passes,  two 
days,  three;  still  nothing  happens.  The 
Pompilus  is  assiduous  in  her  visits  to  the 
honeyed  flower-clusters;  when  she  has  eaten 
her  fill,  she  clambers  up  the  dome  and  makes 
interminable  circuits  of  the  netting;  the 
Tarantula  quietly  munches  her  Locust.  If 
the  other  passes  within  reach,  she  swiftly 
raises  herself  and  waves  her  off.  The  arti- 
ficial burrow,  the  reed-stump,  fulfils  its  pur- 
pose excellently.  The  Lycosa  and  the  Pom- 
pilus resort  to  it  in  turns,  but  without  quar- 
relling. And  that  is  all.  The  drama  whose 
prologue  was  so  full  of  promise  appears  to 
be  indefinitely  postponed. 

I  have  a  last  resource,  on  which  I  base 
great  hopes :  it  is  to  remove  my  two  Cali- 
curgi to  the  very  site  of  their  investigations 
and  to  install  them  at  the  door  of  the 
Spider's  lodging,  at  the  top  of  the  natural 
329 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

burrow.  I  take  the  field  with  an  equipment 
which  I  am  carrying  across  the  country  for 
the  first  time:  a  glass  bell-jar,  a  wire-gauze 
cover  and  the  various  implements  needed  for 
handling  and  transferring  my  irascible  and 
dangerous  subjects.  My  search  for  burrows 
among  the  pebbles  and  the  tufts  of  thyme 
and  lavender  is  soon  successful. 

Here  is  a  splendid  one.  I  learn  by 
inserting  a  straw  that  it  is  inhabited  by  a 
Tarantula  of  a  size  suited  to  my  plans.  The 
soil  around  the  aperture  is  cleared  and  flat- 
tened to  receive  the  wire-gauze,  under  which 
I  place  a  Pompilus.  This  is  the  time  to 
light  a  pipe  and  wait,  lying  on  the  pebbles. 
.  .  .  Yet  another  disappointment.  Half  an 
hour  goes  by;  and  the  Wasp  confines  herself 
to  travelling  round  and  round  the  netting  as 
she  did  in  my  study.  She  gives  no  sign  of 
greed  when  confronted  with  the  burrow, 
though  I  can  see  the  Tarantula's  diamond 
eyes  glittering  at  the  bottom. 

The  trellised  wall  is  replaced  by  the  glass 
wall,  which,  since  it  does  not  allow  her  to 
scale  its  heights,  will  oblige  the  Wasp  to 
remain  on  the  ground  and  at  last  to  take 
cognizance  of  the  shaft,  which  she  seems  to 
ignore.  This  time  we  have  done  the  trick! 

After  a  few  circuits  of  her  cage,  the  Cali- 
330 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

curgus  notices  the  pit  yawning  at  her  feet. 
She  goes  down  it.  This  daring  confounds 
me.  I  should  never  have  ventured  to  an- 
ticipate as  much.  That  she  should  suddenly 
fling  herself  upon  the  Tarantula  when  the 
latter  is  outside  her  stronghold,  well  and 
good;  but  to  rush  into  the  lair,  when  the 
terrible  monster  is  waiting  for  you  below 
with  those  two  poisoned  daggers  of  hers! 
What  will  come  of  such  temerity?  A  buz- 
zing of  wings  ascends  from  the  depths. 
Run  to  earth  in  her  private  apartments,  the 
Lycosa  is  no  doubt  at  grips  with  the  in- 
truder. That  hum  of  wings  is  the  Cali- 
curgus'  paean  of  triumph,  unless  it  be  her 
death-song.  The  slayer  may  well  be  the 
slain.  Which  of  the  two  will  come  up  alive? 
It  is  the  Lycosa,  who  hurriedly  scampers 
out  and  posts  herself  just  over  the  orifice  of 
the  burrow,  in  her  posture  of  defence,  her 
fangs  open,  her  four  front  legs  uplifted. 
Can  the  other  have  been  stabbed?  Not  at 
all,  for  she  emerges  in  her  turn,  not  with- 
out receiving  on  the  way  a  cuff  from  the 
Spider,  who  immediately  regains  her  lair. 
Dislodged  from  her  basement  a  second  and 
yet  a  third  time,  the  Tarantula  always  comes 
up  unwounded;  she  always  awaits  her  ad- 
versary on  her  threshold,  administers  pun- 

331 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

ishment  and  reenters  her  dwelling.  In  vain 
do  I  try  my  two  Pompili  alternately  and 
change  the  burrow;  I  do  not  succeed  in  ob-- 
serving  anything  else.  Certain  conditions 
not  realized  by  my  stratagems  are  lacking 
to  complete  the  tragedy. 

Discouraged  by  the  repetition  of  my  fu- 
tile attempts,  I  throw  up  the  game,  the 
richer  however  by  one  fact  of  some  value: 
the  Calicurgus,  without  the  least  fear,  de- 
scends into  the  Tarantula's  den  and  dis- 
lodges her.  I  imagine  that  things  happen  in 
the  same  fashion  outside  my  cages.  When 
expelled  from  her  dwelling,  the  Spider  is 
more  timid  and  more  vulnerable  to  attack. 
Moreover,  while  hampered  by  a  narrow 
shaft,  the  operator  would  not  wield  her  lan- 
cet with  the  precision  called  for  by  her  de- 
signs. The  bold  irruption  shows  us  once 
again,  more  plainly  than  the  tussles  on  my 
table,  the  Lycosa's  reluctance  to  sink  her 
fangs  into  her  enemy's  body.  When  the  two 
are  face  to  face  at  the  bottom  of  the  lair, 
then  or  never  is  the  moment  to  have  it  out 
with  the  foe.  The  Tarantula  is  in  her  own 
house,  with  all  its  conveniences;  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  bastion  is  familiar  to  her. 
The  intruder's  movements  are  hampered  by 
her  ignorance  of  the  premises.  Quick,  my 
332 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgt 

poor  Lycosa,  quick,  a  bite;  and  it's  all  up 
with  your  persecutor !  But  you  refrain,  I 
know  not  why,  and  your  reluctance  is  the 
saving  of  the  rash  invader.  The  silly  Sheep 
does  not  reply  to  the  butcher's  knife  by 
charging  with  lowered  horns.  Can  it  be  that 
you  are  the  Pompilus'  Sheep? 

My  two  subjects  are  reinstalled  in  my 
study  under  their  wire-gauze  covers,  with 
bed  of  sand,  reed-stump  burrow  and  fresh 
honey,  complete.  Here  they  find  again 
their  first  Lycosae,  fed  upon  Locusts.  Co- 
habitation continues  for  three  weeks  with- 
out other  incidents  than  scuffles  and  threats 
which  become  less  frequent  day  by  day.  No 
serious  hostility  is  displayed  on  either  side. 
At  last  the  Calicurgi  die:  their  day  is  over. 
A  pitiful  end  after  such  an  enthusiastic  be- 
ginning. 

Shall  I  abandon  the  problem?  Why,  not 
a  bit  of  it !  I  have  encountered  greater  dif- 
ficulties, but  they  have  never  deterred  me 
from  a  warmly-cherished  project.  Fortune 
favours  the  persevering.  She  proves  as 
much  by  offering  me,  in  September,  a  fort- 
night after  the  death  of  my  Tarantula-hunt- 
resses, another  Calicurgus,  captured  for  the 
first  time.  This  is  the  Harlequin  Calicurgus 
(C.  scurra,  LEP.),  who  sports  the  same 
333 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

gaudy  costume  as  the  first  and  is  almost  of 
the  same  size. 

Now  what  does  this  newcomer,  of  whom 
I  know  nothing,  want?  A  Spider,  that  is 
certain;  but  which?  A  huntress  like  this 
will  need  a  corpulent  quarry:  perhaps  the 
Silky  Epeira  (E.  serica),  perhaps  the  Banded 
Epeira  (E.  fasciata),  the  largest  Spiders  in 
the  district,  next  to  the  Tarantula.  The 
first  of  these  spreads  her  large  upright  net, 
in  which  Locusts  are  caught,  from  one  clump 
of  brushwood  to  another.  I  find  her  in  the 
copses  on  the  neighbouring  hills.  The  sec- 
ond stretches  hers  across  the  ditches  and  the 
little  streams  frequented  by  the  Dragon-flies. 
I  find  her  near  the  Aygues,  beside  the  irri- 
gation-canals fed  by  the  torrent.  A  couple 
of  trips  procures  me  the  two  Epeirae,  whom 
I  offer  to  my  captive  next  day,  both  at  the 
same  time.  It  is  for  her  to  choose  accord- 
ing to  her  taste. 

The  choice  is  soon  made :  the  Banded 
Epeira  is  the  one  preferred.  But  she  does 
not  yield  without  protest.  On  the  approach 
of  the  Wasp,  she  rises  and  assumes  a  de- 
fensive attitude,  just  like  that  of  the  Lycosa. 
The  Calicurgus  pays  no  attention  to  threats: 
under  her  harlequin's  coat,  she  is  violent  in 
attack  and  quick  on  her  legs.  There  is  a 

334 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

rapid  exchange  of  fisticuffs;  and  the  Epeira 
lies  overturned  on  her  back.  The  Pompilus 
is  on  top  of  her,  belly  to  belly,  head  to 
head;  with  her  legs  she  masters  the  Spider's 
legs;  with  her  mandibles  she  grips  the 
cephalothorax.  She  curves  her  abdomen, 
bringing  the  tip  of  it  beneath  her;  she  draws 
her  sting  and  ... 

One  moment,  reader,  if  you  please. 
Where  is  the  sting  about  to  strike?  From 
what  we  have  learnt  from  the  other  para- 
lysers,  it  will  be  driven  into  the  breast,  to 
suppress  the  movement  of  the  legs.  That  is 
your  opinion;  it  was  also  mine.  Well,  with- 
out blushing  too  deeply  at  our  common  and 
very  excusable  error,  let  us  confess  that  the 
insect  knows  better  than  we  do.  It  knows 
how  to  assure  success  by  a  preparatory 
manoeuvre  of  which  you  and  I  had  never 
dreamt.  Ah,  what  a  school  is  that  of  the 
animals!  Is  it  not  true  that,  before  striking 
the  adversary,  you  should  take  care  not  to 
get  wounded  yourself?  The  Harlequin 
Pompilus  does  not  disregard  this  counsel  of 
prudence.  The  Epeira  carries  beneath  her 
throat  two  sharp  daggers,  with  a  drop  of 
poison  at  their  points;  the  Calicurgus  is  lost 
if  the  Spider  bites  her.  Nevertheless,  her 
anaesthetizing  demands  perfect  steadiness  of 

335 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  lancet.  What  is  to  be  done  in  the  face 
of  this  danger  which  might  disconcert  the 
most  practised  surgeon?  The  patient  must 
first  be  disarmed  and  then  operated  on. 

And  in  fact  the  Calicurgus'  sting,  aimed 
from  back  to  front,  is  driven  into  the 
Epeira's  mouth,  with  minute  precautions  and 
marked  persistency.  On  the  instant,  the 
poison-fangs  close  lifelessly  and  the  formi- 
dable quarry  is  powerless  to  harm.  The 
Wasp's  abdomen  then  extends  its  arc  and 
drives  the  needle  behind  the  fourth  pair  of 
legs,  on  the  median  line,  almost  at  the  junc- 
tion of  the  belly  and  the  cephalothorax.  At 
this  point  the  skin  is  finer  and  more  easily 
penetrable  than  elsewhere.  The  remainder 
of  the  thoracic  surface  is  covered  with  a 
tough  breast-plate  which  the  sting  would  per- 
haps fail  to  perforate.  The  nerve-centres, 
the  source  of  the  leg-movements,  are  situ- 
ated a  little  above  the  wounded  point,  but 
the  back-to-front  direction  of  the  sting  makes 
it  possible  to  reach  them.  This  last  wound 
results  in  the  paralysis  of  all  the  eight  legs 
at  once. 

To  enlarge  upon  it  further  would  detract 

from    the    eloquence    of    this    performance. 

First  of  all,  to  safeguard  the  operator,  a  stab 

in  the  mouth,  that  point  so  terribly  armed, 

336 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

the  most  formidable  of  all;  then,  to  safe- 
guard the  larva,  a  second  stab  in  the  nerve- 
centres  of  the  thorax,  to  suppress  the  power 
of  movement.  I  certainly  suspected  that  the 
slayers  of  robust  Spiders  were  endowed  with 
special  talents;  but  I  was  far  from  expecting 
their  bold  logic,  which  disarms  before  it 
paralyses.  So  the  Tarantula-huntress  must 
behave,  who,  under  my  bell-glasses,  refused 
to  surrender  her  secret.  I  now  know  what 
her  method  is;  it  has  been  divulged  by  a  col- 
league. She  throws  the  terrible  Lycosa 
upon  her  back,  pricks  her  prickers  by  sting- 
ing her  in  the  mouth  and  then,  in  comfort, 
with  a  single  thrust  of  the  lancet,  obtains 
paralysis  of  the  legs. 

I  examine  the  Epeira  immediately  after 
the  operation  and  the  Tarantula  when  the 
Calicurgus  is  dragging  her  by  one  leg  to  her 
burrow,  at  the  foot  of  some  wall.  For  a 
little  while  longer,  a  minute  at  most,  the 
Epeira  convulsively  moves  her  legs.  So 
long  as  these  throes  continue,  the  Pompilus 
does  not  release  her  prey.  She  seems  to 
watch  the  progress  of  the  paralysis.  With 
the  tips  of  her  mandibles  she  explores  the 
Spider's  mouth  several  times  over,  as  though 
to  ascertain  if  the  poison-fangs  are  really 
innocuous.  When  all  movement  subsides, 
337 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

the  Pompilus  makes  ready  to  drag  her  prey 
elsewhere.  It  is  then  that  I  take  charge 
of  it. 

What  strikes  me  more  than  anything  else 
is  the  absolute  inertia  of  the  fangs,  which  I 
tickle  with  a  straw  without  succeeding  in 
rousing  them  from  their  torpor.  The  palpi, 
on  the  other  hand,  their  immediate  neigh- 
bours, wave  at  the  least  touch.  The  Epeira 
is  placed  in  safety,  in  a  flask,  and  undergoes 
a  fresh  examination  a  week  later.  Irri- 
tability has  in  part  returned.  Under  the 
stimulus  of  a  straw,  I  see  her  legs  move  a 
little,  especially  the  lower  joints,  the  tibiae 
and  tarsi.  The  palpi  are  even  more  irritable 
and  mobile.  These  different  movements, 
however,  are  lacking  in  vigour  and  coordina- 
tion; and  the  Spider  cannot  employ  them  to 
turn  over,  much  less  to  escape.  As  for  the 
poison-fangs,  I  stimulate  them  in  vain:  I 
cannot  get  them  to  open  or  even  to  stir. 
They  are  therefore  profoundly  paralysed 
and  in  a  special  manner.  The  peculiar  in- 
sistence of  the  sting  when  the  mouth  was 
stabbed  told  me  as  much  in  the  beginning. 

At  the  end  of  September,  almost  a  month 

after  the  operation,  the  Epeira  is  in  the  same 

condition,  neither  dead  nor  alive:  the  palpi 

still  quiver  when  touched  with  a  straw,  but 

338 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

nothing  else  moves.  At  length,  after  six  or 
seven  weeks'  lethargy,  real  death  supervenes, 
together  with  its  comrade,  putrefaction. 

The  Tarantula  of  the  Ringed  Calicurgus, 
as  I  take  her  from  the  owner  at  the  moment 
of  transportation,  presents  the  same  peculi- 
arities. The  poison-fangs  are  no  longer  ir- 
ritable when  tickled  with  my  straw:  a  fresh 
proof,  added  to  those  of  analogy,  to  show 
that  the  Lycosa,  like  the  Epeira,  has  been 
stung  in  the  mouth.  The  palpi,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  and  will  be  for  weeks  highly  ir- 
ritable and  mobile.  I  wish  to  emphasize 
this  point,  the  importance  of  which  will  be 
recognized  presently. 

I  found  it  impossible  to  provoke  a  second 
attack  from  my  Harlequin  Calicurgus:  the 
tedium  of  captivity  did  not  favour  the  ex- 
ercise of  her  talents.  Moreover,  the  Epeira 
sometimes  had  something  to  do  with  her 
refusals;  a  certain  ruse  de  guerre  which  was 
twice  employed  before  my  eyes  may  well 
have  baffled  the  aggressor.  Let  me  describe 
the  incident,  if  only  to  increase  our  respect 
a  little  for  these  foolish  Spiders,  who  are 
provided  with  perfected  weapons  and  do  not 
dare  to  make  use  of  them  against  the  weaker 
but  bolder  assailant. 

The  Epeira  occupies  the  wall  of  the  wire- 

339 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

gauze  cage,  with  her  eight  legs  wide-spread 
upon  the  trelliswork;  the  Calicurgus  is  wheel- 
ing round  the  top  of  the  dome.  Seized  with 
panic  at  the  sight  of  the  approaching  enemy, 
the  Spider  drops  to  the  ground,  with  her 
belly  upwards  and  her  legs  gathered  to- 
gether. The  other  dashes  forward,  clasps 
her  round  the  body,  explores  her  and  pre- 
pares to  sting  her  in  the  mouth.  But  she 
does  not  bare  her  weapon.  I  see  her  bend- 
ing attentively  over  the  poisoned  fangs,  as 
though  to  investigate  their  terrible  mechan- 
ism; she  then  goes  away.  The  Spider  is  still 
motionless,  so  much  so  that  I  really  believe 
her  dead,  paralysed  unknown  to  me,  at  a 
moment  when  I  was  not  looking.  I  take  her 
from  the  cage  to  examine  her  comfortably. 
No  sooner  is  she  placed  on  the  table  than  be- 
hold, she  comes  to  life  again  and  promptly 
scampers  off !  The  cunning  creature  was 
shamming  death  beneath  the  Wasp's  stiletto, 
so  artfully  that  I  was  taken  in.  She  de- 
ceived an  enemy  more  cunning  than  myself, 
the  Pompilus,  who  inspected  her  very  closely 
and  took  her  for  a  corpse  unworthy  of  her 
dagger.  Perhaps  the  simple  creature,  like 
the  Bear  in  the  fable  of  old,  already  noticed 
the  smell  of  high  meat. 

This  ruse,  if  ruse  it  be,  appears  to  me 
340 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

more  often  than  not  to  turn  to  the  disad- 
vantage of  the  Spider,  whether  Tarantula, 
Epeira  or  another.  The  Calicurgus  who 
has  just  put  the  Spider  on  her  back  after  a 
brisk  fight  knows  quite  well  that  her  pro- 
strate foe  is  not  dead.  The  latter,  thinking 
to  protect  itself,  simulates  the  inertia  of  a 
corpse;  the  assailant  profits  by  this  to  de- 
liver her  most  perilous  blow,  the  stab  in  the 
mouth.  Were  the  fangs,  each  tipped  with 
its  drop  of  poison,  to  open  then;  were  they 
to  snap,  to  give  a  desperate  bite,  the  Pom- 
pilus  would  not  dare  to  expose  the  tip  of  her 
abdomen  to  their  deadly  scratch.  The 
shamming  of  death  is  exactly  what  enables 
the  huntress  to  succeed  in  her  dangerous 
operation.  They  say,  O  guileless  Epeirae, 
that  the  struggle  for  life  has  taught  you  to 
adopt  this  inert  attitude  for  purposes  of  de- 
fence. Well,  the  struggle  for  life  was  a 
very  bad  counsellor.  Trust  rather  to  com- 
mon sense  and  learn,  by  degrees,  at  your 
own  cost,  that  to  hit  back,  above  all  if  you 
can  do  so  promptly,  is  still  the  best  way  to 
intimidate  the  enemy.1 

The   remainder   of   my   observations    on 
these  insects  under  glass  is  little  more  than 

1  Fabre    does    not   believe    in   the    actual   shamming   of 
death    by    animals.     Cf.     The    Glow-worm    and    Other 

341 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

a  long  series  of  failures.  Of  two  operators 
on  Weevils,  one,  the  Sandy  Cerceris  (C. 
arenaria) ,  persistently  scorned  the  victims 
offered;  the  other,  Ferrero's  Cerceris  (C. 
Ferreri),  allowed  herself  to  be  empted  after 
two  days'  captivity.  Her  tactical  method, 
as  I  expected,  is  precisely  that  of  the  Cleonus- 
huntress,  the  Great  Cerceris,  with  whom 
my  investigations  commenced.  When  con- 
fronted with  the  Acorn-weevil,  she  seizes  the 
insect  by  the  snout,  which  is  immensely  long 
and  shaped  like  a  pipe-stem,  and  plants  her 
sting  in  its  body  to  the  rear  of  the  prothorax, 
between  the  first  and  second  pair  of  legs. 
It  is  needless  to  insist:  the  spoiler  of  the 
Cleoni  has  taught  us  enough  about  this  mode 
of  operation  and  its  results. 

None  of  the  Bembex-wasps,  whether 
chosen  among  the  huntresses  of  the  Gadfly 
or  among  the  lovers  of  the  House-fly  rab- 
ble, satisfied  my  aspirations.  Their  method 
is  as  unknown  to  me  now  as  at  the  distant 
period  when  I  used  to  watch  it  in  the  Bois 
des  Issards.1  Their  impetuous  flight,  their 
love  of  long  journeys  are  incompatible  with 

Beetles,  by  J.  Henri  Fabre,  translated  by  Alexander 
Teixeira  de  Mattos:  chaps,  xiii.  to  xv. — Translator's 
Note. 

1  Cf.  The  Hunting  Wasps:  chaps,  xiv.  to  xviii. —  Trans- 
lator's Note. 

342 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

captivity.  Stunned  by  colliding  with  the 
walls  of  their  glass  or  wire-gauze  prison, 
they  all  perish  within  twenty-four  hours. 
Swifter  in  their  movements  and  apparently 
satisfied  with  their  honeyed  thistle-heads,  the 
Spheges,  huntresses  of  Crickets  or  Ephip- 
pigers,  die  as  quickly  of  nostalgia.  All  I 
offer  them  leaves  them  indifferent. 

Nor  can  I  get  anything  out  of  the  Eu- 
menes,  notably  the  biggest  of  them,  the 
builder  of  gravel  cupolas,  Amedeus'  Eu- 
menes.  All  the  Pompili,  except  the  Harle- 
quin Calicurgus,  refuse  my  Spiders.  The 
Palarus,  who  preys  upon  an  indefinite  num- 
ber of  the  Hymenopteron  clan,  refuses  to 
tell  me  if  she  drinks  the  honey  of  the  Bees, 
as  does  the  Philanthus,  or  if  she  lets  the 
others  go  without  manipulating  them  to 
make  them  disgorge.  The  Tachytes  do  not 
vouchsafe  their  Locusts  a  glance;  Stizus  rufi- 
cornis  promptly  gives  up  the  ghost,  disdain- 
ing the  Praying  Mantis  which  I  provide  for 
her. 

What  is  the  use  of  continuing  this  list  of 
checks?  The  rule  may  be  gathered  from 
these  few  examples :  occasional  successes  and 
many  failures.  What  can  be  the  reason? 
With  the  exception  of  the  Philanthus, 
tempted  from  time  to  time  by  a  bumper  of 

343 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

honey,  the  predatory  Wasps  do  not  hunt  on 
their  own  account;  they  have  their  victual- 
ling-time, when  the  egg-laying  is  imminent, 
when  the  family  calls  for  food.  Outside 
these  periods,  the  finest  heads  of  game  might 
well  leave  these  nectar-bibbers  indifferent. 
I  am  careful  therefore,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  capture  my  subjects  at  the  proper  season; 
I  give  preference  to  mothers  caught  upon 
the  threshold  of  the  burrow  with  their  prey 
between  their  legs.  This  diligence  of  mine 
by  no  means  always  succeeds.  There  are 
demoralized  insects  which,  once  under  glass, 
even  after  a  brief  delay,  no  longer  care 
about  the  equivalent  of  their  prize. 

All  the  species  do  not  perhaps  pursue  their 
game  with  the  same  ardour;  mood  and  tem- 
perament are  more  variable  even  than  con- 
formation. To  these  factors,  which  are  of 
the  nicest  order,  we  may  add  that  of  the 
hour,  which  is  often  unfavourable  when  the 
subject  is  caught  at  haphazard  on  the  flow- 
ers, and  we  shall  have  more  than  enough  to 
explain  the  frequency  of  the  failures.  After 
all,  I  must  beware  of  representing  my  fail- 
ures as  the  rule:  what  does  not  succeed  one 
day  may  very  well  succeed  another  day,  un- 
der different  conditions.  With  perseverance 
and  a  little  skill,  any  one  who  cares  to  con- 

344 


The  Method  of  the  Calicurgi 

tinue  these  interesting  studies  will,  I  am  sure, 
fill  up  many  gaps.  The  problem  is  difficult 
but  not  impossible. 

I  will  not  quit  my  bell-jars  without  saying 
a  word  on  the  entomological  tact  of  the  cap- 
tives when  they  decide  to  attack.  One  of 
the  pluckiest  of  my  subjects,  the  Hairy  Am- 
mophila,  was  not  always  provided  with  the 
hereditary  dish  of  her  family,  the  Grey 
Worm.  I  offered  her  indiscriminately  any 
bare-skinned  caterpillars  that  I  chanced  to 
find.  Some  were  yellow,  some  green,  some 
brown  with  white  edges.  All  were  accepted 
without  hesitation,  provided  that  they  were 
of  suitable  size.  Tasty  game  was  recog- 
nized wonderfully  under  very  dissimilar 
liveries.  But  a  young  Zeuzera-caterpillar, 
dug  out  of  the  branches  of  a  lilac-tree,  and 
a  silkworm  of  small  dimensions  were  defi- 
nitely refused.  The  over-fed  products  of 
our  silkworm-nurseries  and  the  mystery-lov- 
ing caterpillar  which  gnaws  the  inner  wood 
of  the  lilac  inspired  her  with  suspicion  and 
disgust,  despite  their  bare  skin,  which  fa- 
voured the  sting,  and  their  shape,  which  was 
similar  to  that  of  the  victims  accepted. 

Another  ardent  huntress,  the  Interrupted 
Scolia,  refused  the  Cetonia-grub,  which  is  of 
like  habits  with  the  Anoxia-larva;  the  Two- 

345 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

banded  Scolia  also  refused  the  Anoxia.  The 
Philanthus,  the  headlong  murderess  of  Bees, 
saw  through  my  trickery  when  I  confronted 
her  with  the  Virgilian  Bee,  the  Eristalis  (E. 
tenax).  She,  a  Philanthus,  take  this  Fly 
for  a  Bee!  What  next!  The  popular 
idea  is  mistaken;  antiquity  too  is  mistaken, 
as  witness  the  Georgics,  which  make  the  pu- 
trid remains  of  a  sacrificed  Bull  give  birth 
to  a  swarm;  but  the  Wasp  makes  no  mis- 
take. In  her  eyes,  which  see  farther  than 
ours,  the  Eristalis  is  an  odious  Dipteron,  a 
lover  of  corruption  and  nothing  more. 


346 


CHAPTER  XIV 

OBJECTIONS   AND   REJOINDERS 

idea  of  any  scope  can  begin  its  soar- 
ing  flight  but  straightway  the  cur- 
mudgeons are  after  it,  eager  to  break  its 
wings  and  to  stamp  the  wounded  thing  un- 
der foot.  My  discovery  of  the  surgical  me- 
thods that  give  the  Hunting  Wasps  their 
preserved  foodstuffs  has  undergone  the  com- 
mon rule.  Let  theories  be  discussed,  by  all 
means :  the  realm  of  the  imagination  is  an 
untilled  domain,  in  which  every  one  is  free  to 
plant  his  own  conceptions.  But  realities  are 
not  open  to  discussion.  It  is  a  bad  policy 
to  deny  facts  with  no  more  authority  than 
one's  wish  to  find  them  untrue.  No  one 
that  I  know  of  has  impugned  by  contrary 
observations  what  I  have  so  long  been  say- 
ing about  the  anatomical  instinct  of  the 
Wasps  that  hunt  their  prey;  instead,  I  am 
met  with  arguments.  Mercy  on  us!  First 
use  your  eyes  and  then  you  shall  have  leave 
to  argue!  And,  to  persuade  people  to  use 
their  eyes,  I  mean  to  reply,  since  we  have 
347 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

time  to  spare,  to  the  objections  which  have 
been  or  may  be  raised.  Of  course,  I  pass 
over  in  silence  those  in  which  childish  dis- 
paragement shows  its  nose  too  plainly. 

The  sting,  I  am  told,  is  directed  at  one 
point  rather  than  another  because  that  is  the 
only  vulnerable  point.  The  insect  cannot 
choose  what  wound  it  will  inflict;  it  stings 
where  it  must.  Its  wonderful  operative  me- 
thod is  the  necessary  result  of  the  victim's 
structure.  Let  us  first,  if  we  attach  any  im- 
portance to  lucidity,  come  to  an  understand- 
ing about  the  word  u  vulnerable."  Do  you 
mean  by  this  that  the  point  or  rather  points 
wounded  by  the  sting  are  the  only  points  at 
which  a  lesion  will  suddenly  cause  either 
death  or  paralysis?  If  so,  I  share  your 
opinion;  not  only  do  I  share  it,  but  I  was  the 
first  to  proclaim  it.  My  whole  thesis  is  con- 
tained in  that.  Yes,  a  hundred  times  yes, 
the  points  wounded  are  the  only  vulnerable 
points;  they  are  even  very  vulnerable;  they 
are  the  only  points  which  lend  themselves 
to  the  infliction  of  sudden  death  or  else 
paralysis,  according  to  the  operator's  inten- 
tion. 

But  this  is  not  how  you  understand  the 
matter:  you  mean  accessible  to  the  sting,  in 
a  word,  penetrable.  Here  we  part  com- 
348 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

pany.  I  have  against  me,  I  admit,  the  Wee- 
vils and  the  Buprestes  of  the  Cerceres. 
These  mailed  ones  hardly  give  the. sting  a 
chance,  save  behind  the  prothorax,  the  point 
at  which  the  lancet  is  actually  directed.  If  I 
were  one  to  stand  on  trifles,  I  might  observe 
that  in  front  of  the  prothorax,  under  the 
throat,  is  an  accessible  spot  and  that  the 
Cerceres  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
But  let  us  proceed;  I  give  up  the  horn-clad 
Beetle. 

What  are  we  to  say  of  the  Grey  Worm 
and  other  caterpillars  beloved  of  the  Am- 
mophilas?  Here  are  victims  accessible  to 
the  sting  underneath,  on  the  back,  on  the 
sides,  fore  and  aft,  everywhere  with  the  same 
facility,  excepting  the  top  of  the  head. 
And  of  this  infinity  of  points,  which  are 
equally  penetrable,  the  Wasp  selects  ten, 
always  the  same,  differing  in  no  way  from 
the  rest,  unless  it  be  by  the  close  proximity 
of  the  nerve-centres.  What  are  we  to  say 
of  the  Cetonia-  and  Anoxia-larvae,  which  are 
always  attacked  in  the  first  thoracic  segment, 
after  long  and  painful  struggles,  when  the 
assailant  can  sting  the  grub  freely  at  what- 
ever point  she  chooses,  since  it  is  quite  naked 
and  offers  no  greater  resistance  to  the  lancet 
at  one  point  than  at  another? 

349 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

What  are  we  to  think  of  the  Sphex'  Crick- 
ets and  Ephippigers,  stabbed  three  times  on 
the  side  of  the  thorax,  which  is  fairly  well 
defended,  whereas  the  abdomen,  soft  and 
bulky,  into  which  the  sting  would  sink  like 
a  needle  into  a  pat  of  butter,  is  neglected? 
Do  not  let  us  forget  the  Philanthus,  who 
takes  no  account  either  of  the  fissures  be- 
neath the  abdominal  plates  or  of  the  wide 
hiatus  behind  the  corselet,  but  plunges  her 
weapon,  at  the  base  of  the  throat,  through 
a  gap  of  a  fraction  of  a  millimetre.  Let  us 
just  mention  the  Mantis-hunting  Tachytes. 
Does  she  make  for  the  most  undefended 
point  when  she  stabs,  first  of  all,  at  its  base, 
the  Mantis'  dreadful  engine  —  the  arm- 
pieces  each  fitted  with  a  double  saw  —  at  the 
risk  of  being  seized,  transfixed  and  crunched 
on  the  spot  if  she  misses  her  blow?  Why 
does  she  not  strike  at  the  creature's  long 
abdomen?  That  would  be  quite  easy  and 
free  from  danger. 

And  the  Calicurgi,  if  you  please  Are 
they  also  unskilled  duelists,  plunging  the  dirk 
into  the  only  easily  accessible  point,  when 
their  very  first  move  is  to  paralyse  the  poi- 
son-fangs? If  there  is  one  point  about  the 
Tarantula  and  the  Epeira  that  is  dangerous 
and  difficult  to  attack,  it  is  certainly  the 
350 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

mouth  which  bites  with  its  two  poisoned  har- 
poons. And  these  desperadoes  dare  to 
brave  that  deadly  trap !  Why  do  they  not 
follow  your  judicious  advice?  They  should 
sting  the  plump  belly,  which  is  wholly  un- 
protected. They  do  not;  and  they  have 
their  reasons,  as  have  the  others. 

All,  from  the  first  to  the  last,  show  us, 
clear  as  water  from  the  rock,  that  the  outer 
structure  of  the  victims  operated  on  counts 
for  nothing  in  the  method  of  operating. 
This  is  determined  by  the  inner  anatomy. 
The  points  wounded  are  not  stung  because 
they  are  the  only  points  penetrable  by  the 
lancet;  they  are  stung  because  they  fulfil  an 
important  condition,  without  which  penetra- 
bility loses  its  value.  This  condition  is  none 
other  than  the  immediate  proximity  of  the 
nerve-centres  whose  influence  has  to  be  sup- 
pressed. When  at  close  quarters  with  her 
prey,  whether  soft  or  armour-clad,  the  hunt- 
ress behaves  as  if  she  understood  the  nervous 
system  better  than  any  of  us.  The  thought- 
less objection  about  the  only  penetrable 
points  is,  I  hope,  swept  aside  for  ever. 

I  am  also  told: 

:<  It  is  possible,  if  it  comes  to  that,  for  the 
sting  to  be  delivered  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  nerve-centres;  in  a  victim  at  most 
35i 


More.  Hunting  Wasps 

three  or  four  centimetres  long,  distances  are 
very  small.  But  a  casual  there  or  there- 
abouts is  a  very  different  thing  from  the  pre- 
cision of  which  you  speak." 

Oh,  they  are  "  thereabouts,"  are  they? 
We  shall  see !  You  want  figures,  millimetres, 
fractions?  You  shall  have  them! 

First  I  call  to  witness  the  Interrupted 
Scolia.  If  the  reader  no  longer  has  her  me- 
thod of  operating  in  mind,  I  will  beg  him  to 
refresh  his  memory.  The  two  adversaries, 
in  the  preliminary  conflict,  may  be  fairly  well 
represented  by  two  rings  interlocked  not  in 
the  same  plane  but  at  right  angles.  The 
Scolia  grips  a  point  of  the  Anoxia-grub's 
thorax;  she  curves  her  body  underneath  it 
and,  while  encircling  the  grub,  gropes  with 
the  tip  of  her  abdomen  along  the  median 
line  of  the  larva's  neck.  Owing  to  her 
transversal  position,  the  assailant  is  now  free 
to  aim  her  weapon  in  a  slightly  slanting  di- 
rection, whether  towards  the  head  or  to- 
wards the  thorax,  at  the  same  point  of  entry 
in  the  larva's  throat.  Between  the  two  op- 
posite slants  of  the  sting,  which  is  itself  very 
short,  what  can  the  distance  be?  Two 
millimetres,1  perhaps  less.  That  is  very  lit- 
tle. No  matter:  let  the  operator  make  a 

1 .078  inch. —  Translator's  Note. 
352 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

mistake  of  this  length  —  negligible,  you  may 
tell  me  —  let  the  sting  slant  towards  the 
head  instead  of  slanting  towards  the  thorax; 
and  the  result  of  the  operation  will  be  en- 
tirely different.  With  a  slant  towards  the 
head,  the  cerebral  ganglia  are  wounded  and 
their  lesion  causes  sudden  death.  This  is 
the  stroke  of  the  Philanthus,  who  kills  her 
Bee  by  stinging  her  from  below,  under  the 
chin.  The  Scolia  needed  a  motionless  but 
not  dead  victim,  one  that  would  supply 
fresh  victuals;  she  will  now  have  only  a 
corpse,  which  will  soon  go  bad  and  poison 
the  larva. 

With  a  slant  towards  the  thorax,  the  sting 
wounds  the  little  mass  of  nerve-cells  in  the 
thorax.  This  is  the  regulation  stroke,  the 
one  which  will  induce  paralysis  and  leave  the 
small  amount  of  life  needed  to  keep  the 
provisions  fresh.  A  millimetre  higher  kills; 
a  millimetre  lower  paralyses.  On  this  tiny 
deviation  the  salvation  of  the  Scolia  race 
depends.  You  need  not  fear  that  the  op- 
erator will  make  any  mistake  in  this  mi- 
crometrical  performance:  her  sting  always 
slants  towards  the  thorax,  although  the  op- 
posite inclination  is  just  as  practicable  and 
easy.  What  would  be  the  outcome  of  a 
there  or  thereabouts  under  these  conditions? 
353 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Very  often  a  corpse,  a  form  of  food  fatal 
to  the  grub. 

The  Two-banded  Scolia  stings  a  little 
lower  down,  on  the  line  of  demarcation  be- 
tween the  first  two  thoracic  segments.  Her 
position  is  likewise  transversal  in  relation  to 
the  Cetonia-grub ;  but  the  distance  of  the 
cervical  ganglia  from  the  point  where  the 
sting  enters  would  possibly  not  allow  the 
weapon  turned  towards  the  head  to  inflict  a 
lesion  followed  by  sudden  death  as  in  the 
above  instance.  I  am  calling  this  witness 
with  another  object.  It  is  extremely  unusual 
for  the  operator,  no  matter  what  her  prey 
or  her  method,  to  make  a  slight  mistake  and 
sting  merely  s'omewhere  near  the  requisite 
point.  I  see  them  all  groping  with  the  tip 
of  the  abdomen,  sometimes  seeking  persist- 
ently, before  unsheathing.  They  thrust 
only  when  the  point  beneath  the  sting  is  pre- 
cisely that  at  which  the  wound  will  produce 
its  full  effect.  The  Two-banded  Scolia  in 
particular  will  struggle  with  the  Cetonia- 
grub  for  half  an  hour  at  a  time  to  enable 
herself  to  drive  in  the  stiletto  at  the  right 
spot. 

Wearied  by  an  endless  scuffle,  one  of  my 
captives  committed  before  my  eyes  a  slight 
blunder,  an  unprecedented  thing.  Her 
354 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

weapon  entered  a  little  to  one  side,  not  quite 
a  millimetre  from  the  central  point  and  still, 
of  course,  on  the  line  of  demarcation  between 
the  first  two  thoracic  segments.  I  at  once 
laid  hold  of  the  precious  specimen,  which  was 
to  teach  me  curious  matters  about  the  effects 
of  an  ill-delivered  stroke.  If  I  myself  had 
made  the  insect  sting  at  this  or  that  point, 
there  would  have  been  no  particular  interest 
in  it:  the  Scolia,  held  between  the  finger- 
tips, would  wound  at  random,  like  a  Bee 
defending  herself;  her  undirected  sting  would 
inject  the  poison  at  haphazard.  But  here 
everything  happened  by  rule,  except  for  the 
little  error  of  position. 

Well,  the  victim  of  this  clumsy  operation 
has  its  legs  paralysed  only  on  the  left  side, 
the  side  towards  which  the  weapon  was  de- 
flected; it  is  a  case  of  hemiplegia.  The  legs 
on  the  right  side  move.  If  the  operation 
had  been  performed  in  the  normal  fashion 
the  result  would  have  been  sudden  inertia  of 
all  six  legs.  The  hemiplegia,  it  is  true  does 
not  last  long.  The  torpor  of  the  left  half 
rapidly  gains  the  right  half  of  the  body  and 
the  creature  lies  motionless,  incapable  of 
burying  itself  in  the  mould,  without,  how- 
ever, realizing  the  conditions  indispensable 
to  the  safety  of  the  egg  or  the  young  grub. 

355 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

If  I  seize  one  of  its  legs  or  a  point  of  the 
skin  with  the  tweezers,  it  suddenly  shrivels 
and  curls  up  and  swells  out  again,  as  it  does 
when  in  complete  possession  of  its  energies. 
What  would  become  of  an  egg  laid  on  such 
victuals?  At  the  first  closing  of  this  ruth- 
less vice,  at  the  first  contraction,  it  would  be 
crushed,  or  at  least  detached  from  its  place; 
and  any  egg  removed  from  the  point  where 
the  mother  has  fastened  it  is  bound  to  perish. 
It  needs,  on  the  Cetonia's  abdomen,  a  yield- 
ing support  which  the  bites  of  the  new-born 
larva  will  not  set  aquiver.  The  slightly  ec- 
centric sting  gives  none  of  this  soft  mass  of 
fat,  always  outstretched  and  quiescent. 
Only  on  the  following  day,  after  the  torpor 
has  made  progress,  does  the  larva  become 
suitably  inert  and  limp.  But  it  is  too  late; 
and  in  the  meantime  the  egg  would  be  in 
serious  danger  on  this  half-paralysed  victim. 
The  sting,  by  straying  less  than  a  millimetre, 
would  leave  the  Scolia  without  progeny. 

I  promised  fractions.  Here  they  are. 
Let  us  consider  the  Tarantula  and  the  Epeira 
on  whom  the  Calicurgi  have  just  operated. 
The  first  thrust  of  the  sting  is  delivered  in 
the  mouth.  In  both  victims  the  poison- 
fangs  are  absolutely  lifeless :  tickling  with  a 
bit  of  straw  never  once  succeeds  in  making 
356 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

them  open.  On  the  other  hand,  the  palpi, 
their  very  near  neighbours,  their  adjuncts  as 
it  were,  possess  their  customary  mobility. 
Without  any  previous  touches,  they  keep  on 
moving  for  weeks.  In  entering  the  mouth 
the  sting  did  not  reach  the  cervical  ganglia, 
or  sudden  death  would  have  ensued  and  we 
should  have  before  our  eyes  corpses  which 
would  go  bad  in  a  few  days,  instead  of  fresh 
carcases  in  which  traces  of  life  remain  mani- 
fest for  a  long  time.  The  cephalic  nerve- 
centres  have  been  spared. 

What  is  wounded  then,  to  procure  this 
profound  inertia  of  the  poison-fangs?  I  re- 
gret that  my  anatomical  knowledge  leaves 
me  undecided  on  this  point.  Are  the  fangs 
actuated  by  a  special  ganglion?  Are  they 
actuated  by  fibres  issuing  from  centres  exer- 
cising further  functions?  I  leave  to  anato- 
mists equipped  with  more  delicate  instru- 
ments than  I  the  task  of  elucidating  this  ob- 
scure question.  The  second  conjecture  ap- 
pears to  me  the  more  probable,  because  of 
the  palpi,  whose  nerves,  it  seems  to  me,  must 
have  the  same  origin  as  those  of  the  fangs. 
Basing  our  argument  on  this  latter  hypoth- 
esis, we  see  that  the  Calicurgus  has  only 
one  means  of  suppressing  the  movement  of 
the  poisoned  pincers  without  affecting  the 

357 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

mobility  of  the  palpi,  above  all  without  in- 
juring the  cephalic  centres  and  thus  pro- 
ducing death,  namely,  to  reach  with  her  sting 
the  two  fibres  actuating  the  fangs,  fibres  as 
fine  as  a  hair. 

I  insist  upon  this  point.  Despite  their 
extreme  delicacy,  these  two  filaments  must 
be  injured  directly;  for,  if  it  were  enough 
for  the  sting  to  inject  its  poison  "  there  or 
thereabouts,"  the  nerves  of  the  palpi,  so 
close  to  the  first,  would  undergo  the  same 
intoxication  as  the  adjacent  region  and  would 
leave  those  appendages  motionless.  The 
palpi  move;  they  retain  their  mobility  for  a 
considerable  period;  the  action  of  the  poison, 
therefore,  is  evidently  situated  in  the  nerves 
of  the  fangs.  There  are  two  of  these  nerve- 
filaments,  very  fine,  very  difficult  to  discover, 
even  by  the  professional  anatomist.  The 
Calicurgus  has  to  reach  them  one  after  the 
other,  to  moisten  them  with  her  poison,  pos- 
sibly to  transfix  them,  in  any  case  to  operate 
upon  them  in  a  very  restricted  manner;  so 
that  the  diffusion  of  the  virus  may  not  in- 
volve the  adjoining  parts.  The  extreme 
delicacy  of  this  surgery  explains  why  the 
weapon  remains  in  the  mouth  so  long;  the 
point  of  the  sting  is  seeking  and  eventually 
finds  the  tiny  fraction  of  a  millimetre  where 
358 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

the  poison  is  to  act.  This  is  what  we  learn 
from  the  movements  of  the  palpi  close  to 
the  motionless  fangs;  they  tell  us  that  the 
Calicurgi  are  vivisectors  of  alarming  ac- 
curacy. 

If  we  accept  the  hypothesis  of  a  special 
nerve-centre  for  the  mandibles,  the  difficulty 
would  be  a  little  less,  without  detracting 
from  the  operator's  talent.  The  sting 
would  then  have  to  reach  a  barely  visible 
speck,  an  atom  in  which  we  should  hardly 
find  room  for  the  point  of  a  needle.  This 
is  the  difficulty  which  the  various  paralysers 
solve  in  ordinary  practice.  Do  they  actu- 
ally wound  with  their  dirks  the  ganglion 
whose  influence  is  to  be  done  away  with? 
It  is  possible,  but  I  have  tried  no  test  to 
make  sure,  the  infinitely  tiny  wound  appear- 
ing to  be  too  difficult  to  detect  with  the  op- 
tical instruments  at  my  disposal.  Do  they 
confine  themselves  to  lodging  their  drop  of 
poison  on  the  ganglion,  or  at  all  events  in 
its  immediate  neighbourhood?  I  do  not  say 
no. 

I  declare  moreover,  that,  to  provoke 
lightning  paralysis,  the  poison,  if  it  is  not 
deposited  inside  the  mass  of  nervous  sub- 
stance, must  act  from  somewhere  very  near. 
This  assertion  is  merely  echoing  what  the 
359 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

Two-banded  Scolia  has  just  shown  us:  her 
Cetonia-grub,  stung  less  than  a  millimetre 
from  the  regular  spot,  did  not  become  mo- 
tionless until  next  day.  There  is  no  doubt, 
judging  by  this  instance,  that  the  effect  of 
the  virus  spreads  in  all  directions  within  a 
radius  of  some  extent;  but  this  diffusion  is 
not  enough  for  the  operator,  who  requires 
for  her  egg,  which  is  soon  to  be  laid,  abso- 
lute safety  from  the  very  first. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  actions  of  the  para- 
lysers  argue  a  precise  search  for  the  ganglia, 
at  all  events  for  the  first  thoracic  ganglion, 
the  most  important  of  all.  The  Hairy  Am- 
mophila,  among  others,  affords  us  an  excel- 
lent example  of  this  method.  Her  three 
thrusts  in  the  caterpillar's  thorax  and  espe- 
cially the  last,  between  the  first  and  second 
pair  of  legs,  are  more  prolonged  than  the 
stabs  distributed  among  the  abdominal  gan- 
glia. Everything  justifies  us  in  believing 
that,  for  these  decisive  inoculations,  the 
sting  seeks  out  the  corresponding  ganglion 
and  acts  only  when  it  finds  it  under  its  point. 
On  the  abdomen  this  peculiar  insistence 
ceases;  the  sting  passes  swiftly  from  one 
segment  to  another.  For  these  segments, 
which  are  less  dangerous,  the  Ammophila 
perhaps  relies  on  the  diffusion  of  her  venom; 
360 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

in  any  case,  the  injections,  though  hastily 
administered,  do  not  diverge  from  a  close 
vicinity  of  the  ganglia,  for  their  field  of  ac- 
tion is  very  limited,  as  is  proved  by  the 
number  of  inoculations  necessary  to  induce 
complete  torpor,  or,  more  simply,  by  the 
following  example. 

A  Grey  Worm  which  had  just  received  its 
first  sting  on  the  third  thoracic  segment  re- 
pulses the  Ammophila  and  with  a  jerk  hurls 
her  to  a  distance.  I  profit  by  the  occasion 
and  take  hold  of  the  grub.  The  legs  of  this 
third  segment  only  are  paralysed;  the  others 
retain  their  usual  mobility.  However  help- 
less in  the  two  injured  legs,  the  animal  can 
walk  very  well;  it  buries  itself  in  the  earth, 
returning  to  the  surface  at  night  to  gnaw 
the  stump  of  lettuce  with  which  I  have  served 
it.  For  a  fortnight  my  paralytic  retains 
perfect  liberty  of  action,  except  in  the  seg- 
ment operated  on;  then  it  dies,  not  of  its 
wound  but  accidentally.  All  this  time  the 
effect  of  the  poison  has  not  spread  beyond 
the  inoculated  segment. 

At  any  point  where  the  sting  enters,  an- 
atomy informs  us  of  the  presence  of  a  ner- 
vous nucleus.  Is  this  centre  directly  smitten 
by  the  weapon?  Or  is  it  poisoned  with 
virus,  from  a  very  small  distance,  by  the 
361 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

progressive  impregnation  of  the  neighbour- 
ing tissues?  This  is  the  doubtful  point, 
though  it  does  not  in  any  way  invalidate  the 
precision  of  the  abdominal  injections,  which 
are  comparatively  neglected.  As  for  those 
in  the  caterpillar's  thorax,  their  precision  is 
beyond  dispute.  After  the  Ammophilae,  the 
Scoliae  and,  above  all,  the  Calicurgi,  is  it 
really  necessary  to  bring  into  court  yet  other 
witnesses,  who  would  all  swear  that,  with 
modifications  of  detail,  the  movement  of 
their  lancet  is  strictly  regulated  by  the  ner- 
vous system  of  the  prey?  This  ought  to  be 
enough.  The  proof  is  established  for  those 
who  have  ears  to  hear  with. 

Others  delight  in  objections  whose  oddity 
surprises  me.  They  see  in  the  poison  of  the 
Hunting  Wasps  an  antiseptic  liquid  and  in 
victuals  stored  in  their  burrows  preserved 
meats  which  are  kept  fresh  not  by  a  rem- 
nant of  life  but  by  the  virus  and  its  microbes. 
Come,  my  learned  masters,  let  us  just  talk 
the  matter  over,  between  ourselves.  Have 
you  ever  seen  the  larder  of  a  skilled  Hunt- 
ing Wasp,  a  Sphex  for  instance,  a  Scolia,  an 
Ammophila?  You  haven't,  have  you?  I 
thought  as  much.  Yet  it  would  be  better  to 
begin  by  doing  so,  before  bringing  the  pre- 
servative microbe  on  the  scene.  The  slight- 
362 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

est  examination  would  have  shown  you  that 
the  victuals  cannot  be  compared  exactly  with 
smoked  hams.  The  thing  moves,  therefore 
it  is  not  dead.  There  you  have  the  whole 
matter,  in  its  artless  simplicity.  The  palpi 
move,  the  mandibles  open  and  shut,  the  tarsi 
quiver,  the  antennae  and  the  abdominal  fila- 
ments wave  to  and  fro,  the  abdomen  throbs, 
the  intestine  rejects  its  contents,  the  animal 
reacts  to  the  stimulus  of  a  needle,  all  of 
which  signs  are  hardly  compatible  with  the 
idea  of  pickled  meat. 

Have  you  had  the  curiosity  to  look 
through  the  pages  in  which  I  set  forth  the 
detailed  results  of  my  observations?  You 
haven't,  have  you?  Again,  I  thought  as 
much.  It  is  a  pity.  You  would  there  find, 
in  particular,  the  history  of  certain  Ephip- 
pigers  who,  after  being  stung  by  the  Sphex 
according  to  rule,  were  reared  by  myself  by 
hand.  You  must  agree  that  these  are  queer 
preserves  to  be  produced  by  the  use  of  an 
antiseptic  fluid.  They  accept  the  mouthfuls 
which  I  offer  them  on  the  tip  of  a  straw;  they 
feed,  they  sit  up  and  take  nourishment.  I 
shall  never  live  to  see  tinned  sardines  doing 
as  much. 

I  will  avoid  tedious  repetition  and  content 
myself  with  adding  to  my  old  sheaf  of  proofs 
363 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

a  few  facts  which  have  not  yet  been  related. 
The  Nest-building  Odynerus  showed  us  in 
her  cells  a  few  Chrysomela-larvae  fixed  by 
the  hinder  part  to  the  side  of  the  reed. 
The  grub  fastens  itself  in  this  way  to  the 
poplar-leaf  to  obtain  a  purchase  when  the 
moment  has  come  for  leaving  the  larval 
slough.  Do  not  these  preparations  for  the 
nymphosis  tell  us  plainly  that  the  creature  is 
not  dead? 

The  Hairy  Ammophila  affords  us  an  even 
better  example.  A  number  of  caterpillars 
operated  on  before  my  eyes  attained,  some 
sooner,  some  later,  the  chrysalis  stage.  My 
notes  are  explicit  on  the  subject  of  some  of 
them,  taken  on  Ferbascum  sinuatum.  Sacri- 
ficed on  the  1 4th  of  April,  they  were  still 
irritable  when  tickled  with  a  straw  a  fort- 
night after.  A  little  later,  the  pale-green 
colouring  of  the  early  stages  is  replaced  by 
a  reddish  brown,  except  on  two  or  three 
segments  of  the  median  ventral  surface. 
The  skin  wrinkles  and  splits,  but  does  not 
come  detached  of  its  own  accord.  I  can 
easily  remove  it  in  shreds.  Under  this 
slough  appears  the  firm,  chestnut-brown  horn 
integument  of  the  chrysalis.  The  develop- 
ment of  the  nymphosis  is  so  correct  that  for 
a  moment  the  crazy  hope  occurs  to  me  that 
364 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

I  may  see  a  Turnip-moth  come  out  of  this 
mummy,  the  victim  of  a  dozen  dagger- 
thrusts.  For  the  rest,  there  is  no  attempt  at 
spinning  a  cocoon,  no  jet  of  silky  threads 
flung  out  by  the  caterpillar  before  turning 
into  a  chrysalis.  Perhaps  under  normal  con- 
ditions metamorphosis  takes  place  without 
this  protection.  However,  the  moth  whom 
I  expected  to  see  was  beyond  the  lim- 
its of  the  possible.  In  the  middle  of  May, 
a  month  after  the  operation  on  the  cater- 
pillars, my  three  chrysalids,  still  incomplete 
underneath,  in  the  three  or  four  middle  seg- 
ments, withered  and  at  last  went  mouldy. 
Is  the  evidence  conclusive  this  time?  Who 
can  conceive  such  a  silly  idea  as  that  a  prey 
really  dead,  a  corpse  preserved  from  putre- 
faction by  an  antiseptic,  could  contain  what 
is  perhaps  the  most  delicate  work  of  life, 
the  development  of  the  grub  into  the  perfect 
insect? 

The  truth  must  be  driven  into  recalcit- 
rant brains  with  great  blows  of  the  sledge- 
hammer. Let  us  once  more  employ  this  me- 
thod. In  September  I  unearth  from  a  heap 
of  mould  five  Cetonia-grubs,  paralysed  by 
the  Two-banded  Scolia  and  bearing  on  the 
abdomen  the  as  yet  unhatched  egg  of  the 
Wasp.  I  remove  the  eggs  and  install  the 
365 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

helpless  creatures  on  a  bed  of  leaf-mould 
with  a  glass  cover.  I  propose  to  see  how 
long  I  can  keep  them  fresh,  able  to  move 
their  mandibles  and  palpi.  Already  the  vic- 
tims of  various  Hunting  Wasps  had  in- 
structed me  on  a  similar  matter;  I  knew  that 
traces  of  life  linger  for  two,  three,  four 
weeks  and  longer.  For  instance,  I  had  seen 
the  Ephippigers  of  the  Languedocian  Sphex 
continue  the  waving  of  their  antennae  and 
their  paralytic  shudders  for  forty  days  of  art- 
ificial feeding  by  hand;  and  I  used  to  wonder 
whether  the  more  or  less  early  death  of  the 
other  victims  was  not  due  to  lack  of  nourish- 
ment quite  as  much  as  to  the  operation  which 
they  had  undergone.  However,  the  insect 
in  its  adult  form  usually  has  a  very  brief 
existence.  It  soon  dies,  killed  by  the  mere 
fact  of  living,  without  any  other  accident. 
A  larva  is  preferable  for  these  investigations. 
Its  constitution  is  livelier,  better  able  to  sup- 
port protracted  abstinence,  above  all  during 
the  winter  torpor.  The  Cetonia-grub,  a 
regular  lump  of  bacon,  nourished  by  its  own 
fat  during  the  winter  season,  fulfils  the  need- 
ful conditions  to  perfection.  What  will  be- 
come of  it,  lying  belly  upwards  on  its  bed  of 
leaf-mould?  Will  it  survive  the  winter? 
At  the  end  of  a  month,  three  of  my  grubs 
366 


Objections  and  Rejoinders 

turn  brown  and  lapse  into  rottenness.  The 
other  two  keep  perfectly  fresh  and  move 
their  antennae  and  palpi  at  the  touch  of  a 
straw.  The  cold  weather  comes  and  tickling 
no  longer  elicits  these  signs  of  life.  The 
inertia  is  complete;  nevertheless  their  ap- 
pearance remains  excellent,  without  a  trace 
of  the  brownish  tinge,  the  sign  of  deteriora- 
tion. At  the  return  of  the  warm  weather, 
in  the  middle  of  May,  there  is  a  sort  of 
resurrection.  I  find  my  two  larvae  turned 
over,  belly  downwards;  much  more:  they  are 
half-buried  in  the  mould.  When  teased, 
they  coil  up  lazily;  they  move  their  legs  as 
well  as  their  mouth-parts,  but  slowly  and 
without  vigour.  Then  their  strength  seems 
to  revive.  The  convalescent,  resuscitated 
grubs  dig  with  clumsy  efforts  into  their  bed 
of  mould;  they  dive  into  it  and  disappear  to 
a  depth  of  about  two  inches.  Recovery 
seems  to  be  imminent. 

I  am  mistaken.  Jn  June  I  unearth  the 
invalids.  This  time,  the  larvae  are  dead; 
their  brown  colour  tells  me  as  much.  I  ex- 
pected better  things.  Never  mind:  this  is 
no  trifling  success.  For  nine  months,  nine 
long  months,  the  grubs  stabbed  by  the 
Scolia  kept  fresh  and  alive.  Towards  the 
end,  torpor  was  dispelled,  strength  and 
367 


More  Hunting  Wasps 

movement  returned,  sufficiently  to  enable 
them  to  leave  the  surface  where  I  had 
placed  them  and  to  regain  the  depths  by 
boring  a  passage  through  the  soil.  I  really 
think  that  after  this  resurrection  there  will 
be  no  more  talk  of  antiseptics,  unless  and 
until  tinned  Herrings  begin  to  frolic  in  their 
brine.  l 

1  The    subject   of   this    and  the    preceding   chapters   is 

continued  in  an  essay  entitled  The  Poison  of  the  Bee,  for 

which  cf.  Bramble-bees  and  Others:  chap.  xi. — Trans- 
lator's Note. 


368 


INDEX 


Acorn-weevil,  181-184,  342 
Amedeus'  Eumenes,  216,  343 
Ameles  decolor  (see  Grey 

Mantis) 
Ammophila     (see    also    the 

varieties  below),  105,  128, 

144,  169,  186,  285-308,  362 
Ammophila     hursuta      (see 

Hairy  Ammophila) 
Ammophila  holos erica   (see 

Silky    Ammophila) 
Ammophila  Julii  (see  Jules' 

Ammophila) 
Ammophila    sabulosa     (see 

Sandy  Ammophila) 
Anathema    Tachytes,     137- 

139 

Anoxia  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  88-89,  97-98, 
109,  n6,  124,  172,  308, 
322,  324,  345-346,  349» 
352-354 

Anoxia  australis,  317-322 

Anoxia  matutinalis  (see 
Morning  Anoxia) 

Anoxia  villosa  (see  Shaggy 
Anoxia) 

Ant,  146-149 

Anthidium  (see  also  the 
varieties  below),  223 

Anthidium  bellicosum,  239, 
241 


369 


Anthidium   scapulare,   239- 

240 
Anthidium  septemdentatum, 

239,  241 

Anthophora,  276,  280 
Anthrax  (see  also  A.  sinu- 

ata),  190,  192,  201,  285 
Anthrax  sinuata,  239,  241 
Ape,  112-113 
Aphis   (see  Plant-louse) 
Ass,  196 
Astata,  170 


B 


Balaninus  (see  also  B.  glan- 

dum),  167 
Balaninus     glandum      (see 

Acorn-weevil) 
Banded  Epeira,  29,  334-341 
Bat,  in 
Bee    (see  also  Bumble-bee, 

Hive-bee,        Mason-bee), 

174,    175/1,    221-224,    274 
Bee-eating  Philanthus,  171- 

172,      202,      216-219,     222, 

224-226,  243-284,  286,  291, 
313-314,  316,  343,  346,  353 

Beetle,  104,  349 

Bembex  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  i,  33,  62-63, 
86,  128,  132,  143,  160-165, 
170,  178,  186,  190,  200, 
267,  269,  274,  293,  342-343 


Index 


Bembex  bidentata  (see 
Two-pronged  Bembex) 

Bembex  rostrata  (see  Ros- 
trate Bembex) 

Black,  Adam  and  Charles, 
v. 

Black-bellied  Tarantula,  in, 
4-28,  324-333,  337-341, 
350,  356-359 

Black  Spider  (see  Cellar 
Spider) 

Black     Tachytes,     135-137, 

139 

Blister-beetle  (see  Oil-bee- 
tle) 

Bluebottle,  146 
Blue  Osmia,  239,  241 
Bombylius,  179 
Boyle>  Robert,  347* 
Brachycera,  167 
Brachyderes  pubescens  (see 

Pubescent  Brachyderes) 
Breguet,  Louis,  114 
Brillat-Savarin,    Anthelme, 

1 66,  208 
Brown-winged         Solenius, 

174-175 
Bug,  170 
Bull,  346 
Bull,  the  author's  Dog,  46, 

149 

Bullock,  53 

Bumble-bee,  4,  7,  13,  30 
Buprestis,    i,    104-106,    173, 

177,   179-180,    349 
Buprestis-hunting    Cerceris, 

173 

Burnt  Zonitis,  239,  241 
Butterfly,  177 


Cabbage  Pieris,  167-168,  187 

Calicurgus  (see  Pompilus 
and  the  varieties  below) 

Calicurgus  annulatus  (see 
Ringed  Calicurgus) 

Calicurgus  scurra  (see  Har- 
lequin Calicurgus) 

Callot,  Jacques,  141-142 

Cantharides,  240 

Carpenter-bee,  4,  30 

Cellar  Spider,  11-28 

Century  co.,  v 

Cerceris  (see  also  Buprestis- 
hunting  Cerceris  and  the 
varieties  below),  i,  104, 
169,  179,  200,  223,  251, 
268,  312,  349 

Cerceris  arenaria  (see  Sand 
Cerceris) 

Cerceris  Ferreri  (see  Fer- 
rero's  Cerceris) 

Cerceris  ornata  (see  Ornate 
Cerceris) 

Cerceris  tuberculata  (see 
Great  Cerceris) 

Cerocoma,  240 

Cetonia  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  48-50,  52- 
103,  109,  116,  120-125, 
172,  202,  274-275,  308-317, 
319,  324,  345,  349,  354-356, 
360,  365-368 

Cetonia  aurata  (see  Golden 
Cetonia) 

Cetonia  morio,  48-49 

Chaffinch,  184,  196 

Chalicodoma  (see  Mason- 
bee) 


370 


Index 


Chaoucho-grapaou         (see 

Nightjar) 
Chimpanzee,  114 
Chrysomela      populi      (see 

Poplar  Leaf-beetle) 
Cicada,  34 
Cicadella,  170 
Cleonus    (see  also   C.   oph- 

thalmicus),   173,   176-177, 

291,  342 

Cleonus  ophthalmicus ,  173 
Cneorhinus,  183 
Cockchafer,  42^,  88,  99,  124, 

317/1,  3207* 

Colpa  interrupta  (see  Inter- 
rupted Scolia) 
Common    Cockchaper     (see 

Cockchafer) 
Common  Wasp,  13,  32 
Cotton-bee    (see  Anthldium 

scapular  e} 
Cow,  196 
Crab,  ii 

Crabro  (see  Hornet) 
Crabro     chrysostomus     (see 

Golden-mouthed    Hornet) 
Cricket,  i,  89,  106,  135-136, 

139-140,  172,  185-186,  200, 

202,  2IO-2II,  2l6,  29I-292, 

343,  350 
Crowned    Philanthus,     173, 

283 
Cuckoo,  in 


Devilkin  (see  Empusa) 
Dicranura  vinula,  306-307 
Dioxys  cincta   (see  Girdled 

Dioxys) 
Dog    (see  also  Bull),  207- 

208,  294,  316 
Drone-fly,  12-13,  24-25,  174. 

175;*,    194,    202,    255-256, 

346 
Dufour,  Jean  Marie   Leon, 

179 
Duejes.  Louis  Antoine,  13-15 


Earth-worm,  196 

Eight-spotted   Pompilus,   29 

Empusa,  140-143,  176,  179, 
210,  220 

Epeira  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  170,  293, 

350,   356-359 
Epeira  fasciata  (see  Banded 

Epeira) 
Epeira     serica     (see     Silky 

Epeira) 
Ephippiger,     i,     57,    73'77» 

79,  89,  106,  172,  175,  186, 

199,      2O2,      2IO-2II,      292, 

343  350,  363,  366 
Eristalis     E.     tenax      (see 

Drone-fly) 
Eucera,  280 
Euchlora  Julii,  44 
Eumenes     (see    also    Ame- 

deus  Eumenes),  169 


Darwin,     Charles     Robert,  p 

148,  233,  286-289 
David  the  painter,  112-113     Fabricius,  Johan   Christian, 

238 

Favier,   the   author's   facto- 
tum, 46-47,  51,  III-II2 


David,  Felicien   Cesar,  113 

Death's-head      Hawk-moth, 

187,  196 


371 


Index 


Ferrero's  Cerceris,  180-181, 

342 

Field-mouse,  196 

Fly  (see  also  Gad-fly, 
House-fly),  13,  62-63,  17°> 
*74~*7S*  l8o>  190-191, 
I94-I95.  200-202,  274, 
346 

Fox,  149 

Frog,  196 


Gad-fly,     i,     34,     36,     146, 
167^,    174,    185-186,    293, 

342 

Galileo,  34« 
Garden    Scolia,    30-32,    49, 

72-73,    98-99,     103,     "6, 

172 

Garden  Spider  (see  Epeira) 
Geonomus,  183 
Girdled  Dioxys,  235-237 
Gnat,  207,  219 
Goat,  112 

Goatsucker    (see  Nightjar) 
Golden  Cetonia,  48-49 
Golden-crested  Wren,  30 
Golden-mouthed        Hornet, 

175 

Golden  Osmia,  237 
Gorilla,  114 

Grasshopper,    158-160,    211 
Great    Cellar    Spider    (see 

Cellar  Spider) 
Great    Cerceris,    173,    176- 

177,  267,  290-291 

Grey  Mantis,   140-141,  220 
Grey  Worm,  57,  92-93,  156, 

178,  2O2,      2IO,      294-302, 

304,    345,     349,    361-363 


H 

Hairy  Ammophila,  1-2,  57, 
92-94,  136,  156,  174,  177- 

178,     200,     202,     286,     294- 

306,   345,    349,   360-364 

Halictus,  173,  202,  280 

Harlequin  Calicurgus,  333- 
34i,  343 

Hedgehog,  88,  316 

Helophilus  pendulus,  174- 
175 

Hemorrhoidal  Scolia,  30,  99 

Hen,  276 

Herring,  368 

Hive-bee,  16,  24-25,  171- 
172,  202,  216-219,  224- 
226,  228,  246-284,  314, 
3i6,  343,  346,  353 

Hog,  113 

Hornet  (see  also  Golden- 
mouthed  Hornet),  4,  30, 
32,  170,  180 

House-fly,  170,  342 


Interrupted  Scolia,  32,  43- 
44,  50,  96,  98,  102,  1 1 6, 
172,  317-322,  345,  352-354 


Jules,  Ammophila,   303-306 

K 
Klug,  238 

L 

Lalande,  Joseph  Jerome  Le 

Franc.ais  de,  177 
Lamellicorn,  38,  42-45,  170 


372 


Index 


Languedocian  Sphex,  57,  73- 
76,  79,  130;*,  i37,  *72, 
174-175,  199,  262,  292,  366 

Lark,  207 

Latreille,  Pierre  Andre, 
140,  182 

Leucospis  gigas,  L.  grandis, 
238 

Lily-beetle,  167-168,  172 

Linnet,  184 

Locust,  i,  106,  129-131,  139- 
140,  157-158,  176,  i78> 
185-186,  197,  201,  210, 
274-276,  333,  343 

Looper,  174,  179,  201,  210, 
232-233,  302-306,  324 

Lycosa  (see  Black-bellied 
Tarantula) 

M 

Macmillan  Co.,  v 

Mantis  (see  also  Grey 
Mantis,  Praying  Mantis), 
89,  135,  145.  I47-J48,  150, 
163,  170,  173,  179,  201, 
210,  219-220,  224-225,  350 

Mantis-hunting  T  a  c  h  y  - 
tes  (see  Mantis-killing 
Tachytes 

Mantis-killing  Tachy  tes, 
i34-I35»  139-160,  162,  173, 
176,  179,  216,  219-220, 
222,  286 

Mariotte,    Edme,    33 

Mason-bee  (see  also  Antho- 
phora  and  the  varieties 
below),  223,  238 

Miason-bee  of  the  Pebbles 
(see  Mason-bee  of  the 
Walls) 

Mason-bee  of  the  Sheds,  238 


Mason-bee   of   the    Shrubs, 

238 
Mason-bee    of    the    Walls, 

235-238 
M  e  a  s  u  r  i  n  g-w  o  r  m  (see 

Looper) 

Megach}le  sericans,  239,  241 
Melanophora,  175 
Meloe   (see  Oil-beetle) 
Miall,  Bernard,  v 
Midge,  10,  146-147 
Mithridates  VI,   196 
Mole,  4,  42,  137-138,  324 
Mole-cricket,  138-140 
Monkey,  112-113 
Monoceros      (see      Oryctes 

nasicornis) 
Morning  Anoxia,  50,  96-97, 

102-103 

Mosquito,  147,  207 
Moth,  169,  174,  177 
Mule,  293 

Muscid    (see  House-fly) 
Mylabris,  240 

N 

Narbonne    Lycosa    ( see 

Black-bellied   Tarantula) 

Nest-building  Odynerus, 

274,   364 
Nightjar,  112 
Nut-weevil,  225-226 


Odynerus  (see  also  Nest- 
building  Odynerus),  227, 
243-245,  261 

Oil-beetle,  240,  285 

Ornate  Cerceris,  283 

Oryctes  nasicornis,  47,  49- 
50,  72-73,  88-89,  97-98, 
103,  109,  116,  122-123, 


373 


Index 


172,    199,    202,    308,    322 

Oryctes  Silenus,  48 

Osmia  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  222,  242, 
276,  280,  285 

Osmia  cyanea  (see  Blue  Os- 
mia) 

Osmia     cyanoxantha,     235- 

237 
Osmia    Latreillii    (see    La- 

treille's  Osmia) 
Osmia   parvula    (see   Tiny 

Osmia) 
Osmia    tricornis   (see 

Three-horned    Osmia) 
Ostrich,    196 
Otiorhynchus,    180,    183 


Palarus   (see  also  P.  flavi- 

pes),    1 60,    243,    274 
Palarus  flavipes,  283 
Pangonia,    34,    36 
Panzer's  Tachytes,  129-132, 

136,   I44-H5,    176,    178 
Paragus,   175 
Pascal,  Blaise,  114 
Passerini,  49 
Pea-weevil,    167 
Pelopaeus,    170,    202 
Pentodon    punctatus,    48 
Perez,  J.,  1327*,  134^ 
Phaneropteron  falcata, 

191-194 
Philanthus     (see    also    the 

varieties     below),      288, 

309,   350 
Philanthus     apkvorus     (see 

Bee-eating    Philanthus) 
Philanthus    coronatus     (see 

Crowned   Philanthus) 


Philanthus  raptor  (see 
Robber  Philanthus) 

Phynotomus,   180-181 

Pieris  (see  Cabbage  Pieris) 

Pig,  113,  188 

Pine-chafer,  99 

Pithecanthropus,  112 

Plant-louse,    146-147 

Pompilus  (see  also  the 
varieties  below),  1-29, 
170,  186,  293,  324-346, 
35^351,  356-359,  362 

Pompilus  annulatus  (see 
Ringed  Calicurgus) 

Pompilus  apicalis,  15-28 

Pompilus  octopunctatus 

(see  Eight-spotted  Pom- 
pilus) 

Poplar  Leaf-beetle,  243- 
245,  261,  274,  364, 

Praying  Mantis,  135,  139- 
142,  151-160,  163,  165, 
176,  185,  194,  216,  220, 

343 

Pubescent  Brachyderes, 
181-183 


Rat,    in 

Resin-bee     (see    Anthidium 

bellicosum,     A.     septem- 

dentatum] 
Rhinoceros       Beetle        (see 

Oryctes   nasicornis) 
Rhynchites     betuleti,     180- 

181 
Ringed     Calicurgus,     4-29, 

286,  324-333,  337-341 
Ringed       Pompilus        (see 

Ringed  Calicurgus) 


374 


Index 


Robber      Philanthus,       173, 

183 

Robber-fly,   167^ 
Robin,    184 
Romanes,       George      John, 

287 
Rose-chafer     (see    Cetonia, 

Golden    Cetonia) 
Rostrate  Bembex,  174 


Sand  Cerceris,  173,  181- 
184,  200,  216,  225-226, 

274,  342 

Sandy  Ammophila,  174, 
302 

Sapyga  punctata  (see 
Spotted  Sapyga) 

Sarcophaga,   175 

Scarabaeid,  38-39,  43'44> 
116-119 

Scarabaus   pentodon,   103 
122,   124 

Scolia  (see  also  the  vari- 
eties below),  30-126,  137, 
170,  274,_  308^23,  362 

Scolia  bifasciata  (see 
Two-banded  Scolia) 

Scolia  hamorrhoidalis  (see 
Hemorrhoidal  Scolia) 

Scolia  hortorum  (see  Gar- 
den Scolia) 


(//* 


Silkworm,  97,  167,  187- 
190,  197 

Silky  Ammophila,  174,  179, 
201,  232-235,  303 

Silky  Epeira,  29,   334 

Silky        Leaf-cutter 
Megachile  sericans) 

Sitones,   180,   183 

Skua,  260 

Slug,    112 

Snail,  H2,  223,  237 

Socrates,   126 

Solenius  fascipennis  (see 
Brown-winged  Solenius) 

Solenius  vagus  (see  Wan- 
dering Solenius) 

Sparrow,  4,   324 

Sparrow-hawk,    111-112 

Sphaerophoria,   175,   179 

Sphex  (see  also  Langue- 
docian  Sphex,  White- 
banded  Sphex,  Yellow- 
winged  Sphex),  i,  84, 
106-107,  128-129,  132, 
144,  169,  1 86,  191,  202, 
209-213,  223,  343,  350, 
362-363 

Spider  (see  also  Black-bel- 
lied Tarantula,  Cellar 
Spider,  Epeira),  2-3,  10- 
n,  170,  177,  186,  201, 
203,  232-234,  324,  334, 


te^rupted    Scolia) 

Screech-owl,    196  Sti~zu's  '(see   also    the   vari- 

Seal,   197  eties  below),  170,  223 

Segestria  perfidia   (see  Cel-  Stizus   ruficornis,   160,    163- 

lar   Spider)  165,    170,    173,    179,    216, 

Shaggy  Anoxia,  44,   50,  96  343 

Sheep,  i,  196,  333  Stizus  tridentatus,  170 
375 


Index 


Strophosomus,    183 
Swallow,  207 
Swammerdam,  Jan,  97 
Syritta  perpens,  175 
Syrphus,   175 


Tachytes    (see  also  Mantis- 
killing  Tachytes  and  the 


345-34$,      354-35$,      360, 
365,  367 
Two-pronged   Bembex,    174 

Unwin,  T.  Fisher,  Ltd.,  v 


Tachytes     anathema      (see  \y 

Anathema   Tachytes) 
Tachytes  nigra    (see  Black     Wandering  Solenius,  175 


Tachytes) 
Tachytes       Panzeri        (see 

Panzer's   Tachytes) 
Tachytes  tarsina   (see  Tar- 

sal  Tachytes) 
Tachytes   unicolor,   13371 
Tarantula     (s&e    Black-bel- 

lied  Tarantula) 
Tarsal     Bembex,      190-195, 

200 
Tarsal    Tachytes,    132-133, 

139,  158,  178,  274 
Teixeira    de   Mattos,   Alex- 


Wasp  (see  Common 
Wasp) 

Weevil  (see  also  Acorn- 
weevil,  Nut-weevil,  Pea- 
weevil),  i,  104-106,  169, 
173,  177,  183,  185,  200, 
202,  216,  251,  274,  312, 
342,  349 

Whale,  197 

Whippoorwill  (see  Night- 
jar) 

White-banded  Sphex,  130, 
136,  173 


ander,    v,    in,    577.,    1327*,     White  Worm,   42,  99,   137, 

16777,  17377.  320 

Three-horned    Osmia,    229-     Wolf,  196 

232,    237,   239,   241,   276- 

278  Y 

Tiny  Osmia,  237-238  Yellow-winged       Sphex, 

load,  112  135-136,    172, 

Toncelh     Evangehsta,    34  ^  '267    ^ 

Toussenel,    Alphonse,    125 
Turkey,   47  Z 

Turnip  Moth,  9277,  365 
Two-banded  Scolia,  32,  34-     Zeuzera,  345 

45,   47-87,   116,   172,    199,     Zonitis  prausta   (see  Burnt 

202,      309-316,      321-322,         Zonitis) 
376 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 

or  to  the 

NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
Bldg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1-year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 

SEP  17  2000 


12,000(11/95) 


Fabre,  J.H.C. 

More  hunting  wasps. 


QL568 
V5 


244164 


